


Green Ink

by SunTheater



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Kim Sunwoo-centric, M/M, just magical boys falling in love that's it, sunnew platonic soulmates agenda, sunwoo makes peace with his identity uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25846051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunTheater/pseuds/SunTheater
Summary: He goes back to serving himself the things he hadn’t gotten to before the surprise Sorting. Entirely engrossed in making sure he has the right ratio of potatoes to sausage, he doesn’t realize that the empty seat buffer he usually keeps on all sides is the only selection of vacant spots at the entire table. Until Haknyeon sits down across from him, of course. Then he realizes.“Hi,” he greets, smiling wide. “I’m Haknyeon.”“I know.”~Sunwoo has made it five whole years mostly by himself. Made a home for himself at Hogwarts without ever having to think too hard about the House he's never fit into. He's perfectly content to go two more years ignoring the color of his robes and the other students who wear it until the surprise Sorting of a transfer student a month into sixth year. With Haknyeon in his House, it gets harder and harder to keep his walls up.Maybe this is where he's always belonged. Maybe he just needed someone to show him.
Relationships: Bae Joonyoung | Jacob/Moon Hyungseo | Kevin, Choi Chanhee | New/Lee Sangyeon, Ju Haknyeon/Kim Sunwoo, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 178





	Green Ink

**Author's Note:**

> This exists literally just because everyone always sorts Hak wrong. This boy is a SLYTHERIN, you guys. I will not accept constructive criticism on this <3
> 
> Anyways, cue youtuber-style apology for writing sunhak in the year of our lord 2020. Just cause they're divorced doesn't mean I won't write 20k for them lmao
> 
> Also, because it's a Hogwarts AU, I had to adjust their ages. The age order is still the same, though. And I really tried my best to get all the Harry Potter capitalizations correct. You would not BELIEVE how many things she-who-must-not-be-named capitalized in the books. I did not really bother with Britishisms, so they kinda talk like Americans. Sorry :(
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it :D

Sunwoo had always been terrible at those ice-breaker games in Muggle school. So once he realized he would be asked for ‘fun facts’ about himself _each and every year_ , he came up with a go-to list to avoid the awkward silence of him wracking his brain. Kim Sunwoo (or Joey Kim for a brief period of about a month where he had tried to fit in with the other kids in his primary) liked football and juice. He liked music, especially the rap his parents didn’t like him listening to at such a young age. And none of those things were lies. Never once had he made something up for one of those useless games. But none of them were the most interesting fact of all, the single most important aspect of his identity.

What he could never tell his primary school classmates is that Kim Sunwoo ( _Kim Sunwoo_ ) comes from a long line of magic, a long line of Gryffindors. His parents, his siblings, his fourth cousin twice removed. Every single one a Gryffindor, and proud of it. He grew up in sweaters of all shades of red, slept in lion-printed sheets, and decorated his bedroom with posters of his favorite Quidditch players, all alumni of his family’s House. It was never a question where he would be Sorted when his time at Hogwarts came. Near the end of his last year at Muggle school, he received his letter, complete with embossed crest and wax seal. He remembers taping it to his wall and running his fingers over the lion on the crest, already feeling the House pride welling in his chest.

Of course, his family never says anything less than encouraging about his House and his studies. Never anything to plant doubt or discomfort. But he feels it anyway. He feels it when he sees his robes laid across his dresser in the morning before breakfast. He feels it when he sits in the common room, wrapped tight in a thick wool blanket and wishing for a more homey atmosphere. He feels it when he sits down to eat with people he’s never known well enough to call friends. There’s a disconnect too strong to ignore when he finds himself the only one at a red family reunion wearing green.

A disconnect that still hasn’t faded, over five years in.

He tries not to let it consume him, and often, he’s able to put it out of his mind. He does well in his classes, practices hard for Quidditch, spends time with his friends, all without moping about how his bedsheets are now green instead of the red he grew up in.

The one time it’s truly impossible to ignore is meals in the Great Hall.

“Remember, library after dinner,” Chanhee reminds him before veering off to the Ravenclaw table. Doesn’t even give Sunwoo the chance to respond.

He makes his way, alone, to the Slytherin table. Sits at the end, just like always. Serves himself a generous helping of everything while half-listening to the headmaster’s evening announcements, only pausing when he hears a few gasps, a collective murmur.

He looks to the girl nearest his seat, but she’s already engrossed in whispering with her friends, and he’s ashamed to admit that he doesn’t remember her name anyway. So instead of asking for an explanation, he looks to the front of the hall.

Resting there, out of storage a month and a half into the school year, is the Sorting Hat.

Walking down the center aisle of the hall toward the front, looking an interesting mix of excited and queasy as the hat sings its song ( _god_ , Sunwoo’s heard it so many times), is a boy.

The odd thing about the boy is that he doesn’t look eleven years old. In fact, he looks right around Sunwoo’s age.

The hat finishes on a high note, slightly pitchier than usual, but Sunwoo is willing to give it the benefit of the doubt. After all, it did just come out of storage, likely with very little time to warm up.

“The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is pleased to welcome our first transfer student in quite a long time,” Headmaster Yates announces. “Everyone, please join me in welcoming our newest sixth year, Hak- Ha-” His eyes go wide as he examines the parchment with the boy’s name. “I’m so sorry, how do you pronounce your name?”

Sunwoo watches him shift his weight, standing alone in front of the entire school. “Uh, Haknyeon, sir.”

The headmaster still looks confused, but he does his best with the rest of the announcement. “Please join me in welcoming Haknyeon Ju to our school!” Most of the students applaud, but it’s obvious that everyone is still thrown off from the messiness of this introduction, because it’s nothing like the raucous cheering that normally greets first years. “Now, I’m afraid the Sorting Hat has already sung its song, much too early. Would you like to hear it again for your Sorting?” the headmaster asks.

Haknyeon is quick in answering, “No thank you, sir. I’m fine.” A few kids laugh at that. It was the right choice, no matter how miffed the hat may look at being denied another chance.

“Well then, all there is left to do is have you Sorted. Come on up,” he beckons.

Haknyeon looks a little apprehensive, but he goes without further pushing.

It’s odd to see someone so old perched on the stool to be Sorted. Sunwoo didn’t even know that Hogwarts accepted transfer students until tonight.

It doesn’t take long at all for the hat to confidently announce, “Slytherin!”

Some clap, but not many. It’s all a little too impromptu; Sunwoo doesn’t remember there even being a vacant bed in the Slytherin dorm. Of course, in a school with shifting staircases and disappearing doors, that shouldn’t be much of a problem. Haknyeon hovers around the front of the room before Headmaster Yates realizes what’s wrong and directs him to the Slytherin table.

Haknyeon walks alone, with most of the school’s eyes on him. Sunwoo would be frozen if it were him. This is nothing like the energetic, warm feeling of his own Sorting Ceremony. Even though he had been left reeling after, caught up in the shock of being assigned Slytherin, he had felt the sweetness of the night. He imagines Haknyeon isn’t feeling much of that sweetness now.

He goes back to serving himself the things he hadn’t gotten to before the surprise Sorting. Entirely engrossed in making sure he has the right ratio of potatoes to sausage, he doesn’t realize that the empty seat buffer he usually keeps on all sides is the only selection of vacant spots at the entire table. Until Haknyeon sits down across from him, of course. Then he realizes.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling wide. “I’m Haknyeon.”

“I know,” Sunwoo responds. Haknyeon looks abashed, nearing uncomfortable, and Sunwoo rushes to add, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“What’s your name?” Even though he was just inadvertently alienated to the entire school (sometimes the older professors can be a bit tone deaf), he’s warm.

“Sunwoo,” he answers. He’s unsure where to go from here. What is there to talk about with someone he’s sure he has nothing in common with? Haknyeon is a Slytherin after all, so much so that the Sorting Hat only had to deliberate for a moment, and Sunwoo’s found year after year that he doesn’t seem to _click_ well with them.

Haknyeon falls silent again, his smile slipping from his face. Sunwoo feels it tugging at him, but there’s nothing he can do. Whatever Haknyeon might be looking for, Sunwoo isn’t it.

When he speaks again, it’s a little quieter, a little more hesitant. “What’s her name?” he asks, pointing to the girl two seats from Sunwoo. “I need the salt,” he explains, shifting to point at the salt shaker sitting between her and the friend on her other side.

“Oh.” This is embarrassing. “I, uh, actually don’t know.”

Haknyeon’s eyes go wide and he straightens up, sitting taller with a renewed energy. “Oh, are you new too? I didn’t realize.”

Sunwoo hopes he isn’t blushing too intensely as he answers, “No, I just… I can’t remember. I don’t really, uh, talk to her that much I guess.”

“Oh.” Luckily, Haknyeon is more accommodating than Sunwoo and comes to his rescue. “There are so many people here, I imagine it’s hard to keep everyone’s name straight.”

Sunwoo knows he’s lying. They can both see that the room holds a thousand kids at most, a generous count if he’s being honest; the least he could do is learn the names of those in his own House. But he’s being kind, and Sunwoo hears Jacob in his head ( _“Just try to be nice to them, I’m sure you have more in common than you think.”_ ), and he decides it’s not too far out of his way to keep the new kid from hanging high and dry during his first meal at Hogwarts.

“Hey,” Sunwoo says, tapping the girl on the shoulder. “Could you pass the salt, please?”

She hands it over without ever breaking her stream of conversation, throwing a tiny smile his way. Haknyeon brightens up when he slides him the salt shaker, thanks him warmly. Sunwoo is stuck in his head for a moment.

He’s been in the same House as her for six years, and that may have been the first time she’s ever smiled at him. And it would be a lie to say that’s her fault.

A new gnawing wrongness settles around him, entirely unique from the angst he usually fights off during meals. He surveys the room, sees Chanhee laughing with his Ravenclaw friends, catches Eric playing a magical card game with a hoard of Gryffindors. Jacob’s leaning across the table, listening intently to something another Hufflepuff is telling him and nodding at all the right moments. Sunwoo looks across the table to where Haknyeon is sawing through a slab of turkey with sharp concentration.

Something unfurls in his chest. Something warm and wanting.

Sunwoo wants to laugh and play games and listen to stories, too.

“So, how do you like Hogwarts so far?”

Haknyeon pauses mid-chew. He seems surprised Sunwoo is speaking again, and he takes a moment to formulate his response (or to swallow his bite, maybe both). “Um, I haven’t seen much of it yet. They took me around on a little tour before dropping me here, but…”

“But they didn’t _actually_ show you anything.”

“Not really,” he answers with a little laugh.

“What do you know so far?”

“Not much, honestly. I actually just moved here with my family, and I was fine with being taught at home, but my mom wanted me to have a ‘proper and complete magical education’,” he explains, gently mocking her. It’s kinder than the way Sunwoo hears so many kids talk about their parents. “She’s the one who knows all about the school. I didn’t even know the names of the Houses until, well, just now.”

“Huh. Are you happy with what you got?” Sunwoo tries to keep his voice neutral.

“Hmm?” Haknyeon hums around a spoonful of potatoes.

“You, well, do you like Slytherin? Are you happy to be in this House?”

“Oh, yeah,” he answers, smiling again ( _always smiling_ ). “Sounds right, just based on what I heard from the song.”

Sunwoo can’t train his face well enough to control his grimace. Luckily, Haknyeon is still absorbed in his meal and misses it. “I actually never really liked the way it describes Slytherin.”

“Oh? Why?”

“The lyrics are different each time, but that stupid hat always makes us sound evil. Every single year.”

“Isn’t it just about ambition, though?”

Sunwoo wrings his hands under the table. He hadn’t expected having to face his Slytherin complex head-on this evening. “It _is_ about ambition, yeah. But didn’t it feel cold to you, the way it described us? And don’t even get me started on the founder-”

“You’re in Slytherin, though. Do you think you’re bad?”

He’s caught off guard. “I… no, I don’t think I’m _bad_. Just, the House itself-”

“I think it fits me really well,” Haknyeon insists in between bites. “And if I wasn’t in Slytherin, we wouldn’t be talking right now, would we?”

“No, we wouldn’t.”

“Then isn’t it lucky I got Sorted here? I think it’s lucky. I think that means I’m supposed to be here.”

“Oh.” The last time Sunwoo felt so entirely disarmed was the end of last year when Kevin quizzed him on Ancient Runes for his O.W.L.s. “Do you want me to show you around the school after dinner?”

Haknyeon looks up at him, grinning. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Thank you.”

The rest of the meal passes much easier than it had started. Sunwoo learns about Haknyeon (his family just purchased a pig farm in the countryside) and volunteers some information about himself (he’s never been to a real farm in his life).

“Oh, you should visit ours once we have it operating,” Haknyeon says nonchalantly, focused on getting the attention of the girl sitting closest to the basket of rolls. As if he hasn’t just shifted the very ground Sunwoo stands on.

Sunwoo is close enough with the other Slytherins to live amicably in the same dorm with them, to ask for a quill when he’s lost his own, to nod and smile in the hall. But after five whole years of not progressing past that point, he just accepted that he’ll never have a real Slytherin friend. And with the way some of them act, it wasn’t a devastating loss for him.

But here is a boy who’s known the school he attends for less than a week, who’s known Sunwoo for less than an _hour_ , inviting him to his home. Like a friend would.

“That would be… thank you. That would be really cool.” Haknyeon nods and proudly brandishes the roll he was finally able to get his hands on. “You must really like British food,” he adds.

Haknyeon laughs, short and genuine, almost a bark. “I’m just really hungry, didn’t have lunch. I love food, but this is honestly a little bit disappointing.” He says it with a smile, and Sunwoo can’t tell whether he’s being sarcastic or not. His confusion must show because Haknyeon continues, “We moved here from Hong Kong. The food there was…” his eyes go wide and Sunwoo laughs. He can’t remember the last time he laughed during a meal. “It was better than here, definitely.”

“I like it, but maybe that’s because it’s what I’ve always eaten. The dessert is good. And there’s a candy store not too far from here, Honeydukes. It’s got tons of good stuff, I promise.”

“I’ll have to visit sometime,” Haknyeon says softly.

“Maybe I can show it to you.”

Sunwoo lost the reservation he usually carries around Slytherins some time along the way this evening. If someone had told him at lunch earlier today that he would be offering to take a Slytherin to Honeydukes at dinner, he would have laughed. But now, sitting here and talking to Haknyeon, he can’t find a reason compelling enough to hold back.

Slowly, the meal wraps up and students clear out of the hall. Some head back to their dorms, some wander outside, some go to the courtyard or library to study… _the library_.

“They didn’t show me where the Slytherin dorm is,” Haknyeon says. “Do you think you could-”

“Come on, Sunwoo!” Chanhee interrupts.

“Uh, Chanhee,” Sunwoo starts.

Luckily, Chanhee looks abashed without Sunwoo having to scold him. “Oh, sorry. Hi, I’m Chanhee,” he introduces himself with a wave. “Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Thanks,” Haknyeon answers politely.

The air between them grows quiet and Sunwoo steps in to explain. “Nobody really showed him around much, so could I meet you there after showing him to the dorm?”

Chanhee nods, _almost_ completely concealing his astonishment. Sunwoo, someone he’s known for years to avoid association with Slytherin like the plague, practically skipping hand-in-hand with the House’s newest student. Sunwoo catches a glimpse of the surprise in his eyes, sends him a pointed look that he hopes conveys ‘I don’t know what’s going on either, but I’ll try to explain later’.

“Yeah, I’ll get our table. Hope those stupid Gryffindors haven’t taken it over already.”

Chanhee rushes off to the library, leaving them alone again. Haknyeon waits until he’s out of earshot before asking, “Are Gryffindors stupid? Is that a thing?”

“No,” Sunwoo laughs. “He’s talking about our friends. Some of us were gonna meet at the library after dinner, a little bit to study, but mostly to mess around.”

“Well thanks for showing me to the dorm, then. It’s nice of you.”

Sunwoo’s normally not _too_ bad with compliments. But he also normally isn’t around someone like Haknyeon. He feels his cheeks warming and hopes the blush isn’t too noticeable. “You’re welcome.”

He leads Haknyeon through the halls of the school, occasionally pointing out his favorite portraits or statues he knows hide secret passages. Once they reach the main staircase at the castle’s entrance, Sunwoo veers off to the side, stopping at a solid brick wall. He waits.

“Uh, the dorm…?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo nods. Tries to keep his face serious as he says, “Each dorm has a different task you have to complete to get in. To access Slytherin’s, you have to,” he takes a pause for dramatic effect, “make a blood sacrifice.”

Haknyeon cocks his head to the side but does nothing else to indicate that the answer is unexpected. He determinedly rolls with the punches. “Okay, how?” Adds a smirk.

And now Sunwoo knows the score, what he’ll be able to get away with and what he won’t. His shoulders slump and he mutters the new password. “You’re seriously no fun.”

“You could have kept going!” he laughs. “I would have let you go a little further.”

“Would you have tried it? If I was mean enough to make you believe it?”

“I don’t know. Now I never have to,” he answers with a smug smile. “So I could find the door using, say, this?” he asks, pointing to the same discolored brick Sunwoo always uses to identify the hidden entrance. Sunwoo nods.

He assumes his tour guide role and takes Haknyeon down the winding stairway to the dungeons. The door clicks shut behind them, and they’re far enough from the dim blue light of the common room that Sunwoo can’t see his own feet. This is always his least favorite part. The dark, the quiet, the narrowness of the stairway. Later in the year, when snow blankets the castle, the common room is frigid, surrounded by the freeze of the lake outside, and this _damn_ staircase is the least inviting it can possibly be.

Sunwoo thinks this descent has always been representative of his House. Neither one feels like home to him.

He steps, hating the way his heart jumps when, for a second, he thinks he’s missed the stair. It happens every time in this watery darkness.

He takes a moment before continuing, and, in that millisecond hesitation, feels a hand come to rest on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Haknyeon whispers, pulling his hand back. “It’s kinda dark. I didn’t wanna fall.”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo says, short of breath. “You can, uh, hold onto me while we go down. I’ve been doing this for years. Soon you’ll learn these stairs better than anything.” Keeps his voice light, adds a laugh at the end. “But they’ll always suck when it’s late at night.” Step down. “I almost broke my neck once coming back from the library. Busy trying to cast a Wand-Lighting Charm so I could see and I missed a step, haven’t used that spell since.” Another step.

“Why don’t they just put lights at the top of the stairs?”

“I don’t know. I guess the others don’t have any trouble with it.” They’re far enough down now to see the murky light from the windows looking out into the lake. Sunwoo can see his hand if he holds it out in front of him.

Haknyeon doesn’t let go of his shoulder. “Don’t you ever talk with them?”

The rest of the staircase is easy. “Of course I do. Just not about the stairs.” Hopes Haknyeon doesn’t call him out on it; Sunwoo doesn’t know if he could recall a single meaningful conversation he’s had with another Slytherin in the past month he’s been back at Hogwarts.

By the time they’re standing at the foot of the stairs, Haknyeon’s hands are at his sides and his eyes are wider than dinner plates.

It tugs a laugh from Sunwoo’s chest, the sight of him standing at the foot of the stairs with his mouth hanging open. “Well, what do you think?”

“It’s… it’s not what I expected.”

“Not what you expected?”

“It’s so pretty.” A few fishes swim by a window and Haknyeon points excitedly. “We get to see the lake?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo answers softly. “It’s my favorite part of our common room.”

“You must spend a lot of time here. It’s so cool,” Haknyeon says, making the rounds, running his hands over the backs of sleek loveseats and shiny tabletops.

“Eh, not really. I have a lot of other places I like better. You’ll probably find places like that, too.”

“Maybe,” Haknyeon answers, faraway. He’s still taking in the space, eyes wide, bright in the blue light.

Sunwoo hates to tear him away, but he’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted with the common room, and Sunwoo has friends waiting on him. He clears his throat and says, “So, just through there are the beds for sixth year boys. I assume they’ll have one empty for you so you can set up.”

Haknyeon smiles and holds his hands up as if in prayer. “I can take it from here. I owe you.”

The low light has never been good for studying, but Sunwoo is grateful for it now. It would be too embarrassing to have Haknyeon see him blushing _again_. “It’s nothing. I’ll see you later?”

“You’re stuck with me, now.”

“Oh, okay. Cool.”

He hears Haknyeon laugh, hears his footsteps echoing against the stone floor as he disappears into the dorm. Sunwoo makes his way up the stairs (always much less harrowing than the way down) and reaches up for the tips of his ears. Warm, probably pink.

On the way to the library, he thinks of Quidditch, the Defense Against the Dark Arts paper looming over him, the charm his grandfather taught him that he’s still never gotten around to using. Really, he thinks of everything except Haknyeon.

By the time he’s rounded the last bookcase and pulled out a chair at their favorite table, his ears are back to normal.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Jaehyun jokes.

“I’m only like fifteen minutes late, asshole.”

“Well, that’s fifteen minutes of Potions study you’ve missed,” Chanhee says, lining wells of his favorite inks up in front of him like soldiers at attention.

“Good thing I don’t _need_ help with Potions, unlike Eric,” he quips back.

“I was literally just sitting here,” Eric whines.

“Stop bullying the baby,” Chanhee warns. Ignoring Eric’s protests ( _“I’m only like one-ish year younger than you!”_ ), he continues, “Sit down, we’re gonna do a little more. And then I have a question for you.”

He says it casually, but there’s mischief hidden just beneath the surface. A promise to make Sunwoo squirm. And Sunwoo trusts him to do it; they’ve always known how to push each other’s buttons.

Chanhee quizzes them for what feels like an eternity to Sunwoo and probably feels longer to Jaehyun and Eric. They’ve never been quite as good as Sunwoo at Potions. But the universe is just; Jaehyun can transfigure circles around him, and Professor Thompson swears Eric is ‘gifted in the art of Divination’.

After they’ve worked their way through the last page of Chanhee’s most recent notes, he pushes his book aside and flashes his eyes at Sunwoo, conspiratorial. “So, you made a new friend.”

“Yeah,” he answers, shrugging and trying to seem unbothered. “I guess. What about it?”

Chanhee bats his eyelashes and plays innocent. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that it seemed like he was a Slytherin.”

Jaehyun and Eric splutter dramatically, feeding Chanhee’s ego. He looks more smug with each passing second.

“I mean, not really. He’s new, so-”

“Wait, it’s the new kid?” Jaehyun asks.

“Yeah, so he’s like barely even Slytherin yet.”

Chanhee rolls his eyes. “He was Sorted there for a reason. His personality _already_ fits Slytherin. And you like his personality enough to blow us off for him after one meal together.”

“I didn’t _blow you off_ ,” he defends. “I was taking him to the dorm. No one showed him how to get there.”

“My point still stands. Your Slytherin vendetta was going to come to an end eventually. I honestly can’t believe it took you this long to make a friend in your _own damn House_. They’re not even bad people, seriously.”

“I never said they were bad people,” Sunwoo explains, cornered. “I just don’t think… I mean…”

“I’m glad you’re finally getting over this,” Eric says. “I can’t imagine hating my House.”

Sunwoo does his best to keep the frustration at bay. “That’s because you’re in Gryffindor. There’s nothing _wrong_ with your House.”

“Calm down,” Chanhee soothes, flipping his switch from inflammatory to sweet. “I just hope you’ll be able to feel happier with it now. Feel like you belong, you know? I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but we care about how you’re feeling.”

“It-” he takes a breath, slumps back in his chair and taps at the edge of the table. “I know you care. You just don’t understand. I don’t _hate_ Slytherin or anything, it’s… complicated.”

“However you feel, we want you to feel better,” Chanhee assures. “If making a Slytherin friend is how you’re gonna do it, then do it.”

Jaehyun looks uncomfortable, like he’s got a rock in his shoe. That means he’s about to say something he knows is cheesy. “You deserve to have someone you can spend time with in your House. Like, when we can’t be there.” Eric nods enthusiastically at his side.

“Thanks,” he says. “Can we just… forget about it for now, though?” He adds a wince, one that has been hiding just beneath the surface the entire time they’ve been talking, hoping his distress will usher them along.

“You know what I saw at dinner?” Eric starts, rushing to his aid. “A _certain Gryffindor_ drooling in his turkey,” pauses to fake gag, “and guess what he was looking at.”

Chanhee’s ears color to the same shade of pink as his hair and he glares daggers at Eric.

Jaehyun smirks and eggs him on. “Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls. “I just can’t think of a single seventh year Quidditch Chaser focused in Alchemy whose name starts with an ‘S’ and ends with an ‘angyeon’ who might have been staring at Chanhee.”

Chanhee’s face is even redder now, looking very similar to the flowers that showed up in the Ravenclaw common room for him one day two weeks ago with a slip of paper reading ‘to CC from SL’. The flowers Chanhee kept on his bedside table until they disintegrated, according to Juyeon. “Shut up. Sangyeon wasn’t looking at me.”

“Oh, how would you know?” Eric teases. “Were _you_ looking at _him_? That’s the only way you could-”

Chanhee threatens to charm Eric’s lips shut and Jaehyun cackles loudly enough to earn a harsh warning from Madame Mortemore. They keep (mostly) quiet after that, occasionally flipping open their books only to stare at the same page for five minutes and promptly shut them again. They always manage to fall back into the same teasing and joking they started with, and it’s comforting. It’s Sunwoo, surrounded by some of his favorite people in the world.

It’s Sunwoo, free of the thought of how he’s never felt the belonging they all get to feel constantly.

💥

It was a late night at the library, one of those nights he had told Haknyeon about, where it’s so dark when he comes back that he almost abandons his superstitious interdiction of _Lumo_ s. Almost. One of those nights that means he sleeps in too late and misses breakfast, _nearly_ misses Herbology.

The day passes slowly to his sleep-deprived brain. Sunwoo counts himself lucky that the Potions test they had been studying for is tomorrow instead of today, because he would certainly fail taking it now.

Each class gets harder and harder to focus on, so his mind wanders. Information flies about him for hours, none of it sticking, as he drifts in and out of memories of home and particularly funny jokes he’s made in the past. By the time lunch rolls around, he’s had to ask to see three different people’s notes to make sure he hasn’t missed anything _too_ important.

The Great Hall tables laden with food are a welcome sight, if only because he can finally turn his brain off without repercussions. He drags himself to his usual spot at the end of the Slytherin table and lets his eyes slide shut, basking in the feeling of not being in a classroom.

The peace doesn’t last long.

“Must have missed you at breakfast,” Haknyeon says, sliding into the spot across him. “Is it okay if I sit here again?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sunwoo answers, sitting up and rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes. Hopes he looks more alert than he feels. “I slept in too late.”

“Ah. Well, I have to say, I think English breakfast is better than English dinner.”

“Yeah?” Sunwoo asks, smiling. “Were you able to find your way around to classes okay?”

Haknyeon nods and passes Sunwoo a serving plate of sandwiches, as if they’ve been dining together for years. “Yeah. The people here are really nice, so whenever I was lost, I just asked for help. I only got turned around once by this ghost-looking thing.” He doesn’t elaborate, just carries on eating, but Sunwoo knows exactly who he’s talking about.

“That was Peeves, he’s annoying as hell.”

Haknyeon shrugs. “Well at least now I know.”

“I can give you a better tour. Just so you can, you know, find your way around.” He stumbles over his words, blames it on his tiredness. “There are tons of cool places here that you should see, anyway.”

Haknyeon doesn’t respond, but Sunwoo sees him smiling down at his plate. It makes him feel warm, the sight of Haknyeon quietly pleased like that.

He used to spend every meal in near silence, but now it’s like an itch under his skin, the need to talk and be heard and listen in turn. He’s had a taste of conversation with Haknyeon, and already, he’s grown used to its comfort. “So, what classes are you taking? I’ve never heard of someone transferring here, how does that work with your schedule?”

“Uh,” Haknyeon starts, letting his head fall back as he thinks. “They wanted me to take most of the core subjects, and then a few specialized ones, just to make sure I had a similar ‘basis of knowledge’ as everyone else. So I have ten classes right now. They say this year will be the hard one because I’m catching up.” Another shrug, as if it’s no big deal.

Sunwoo leans to the side of the table and mimes throwing up. “That’s so gross, I’m so sorry. You think you’ll live or should I start planning a funeral?”

Haknyeon laughs and says, “I don’t know, maybe start getting flower arrangements around just in case. But really, it’s not all that bad yet. I had History of Magic earlier, and that was cool.”

“ _History of Magic?_ I dropped that literally as soon as they would let me.”

Haknyeon fixes him with an appraising look. “I know we’ve known each other for less than a day, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

Sunwoo feels his chest growing tight, for just a second. And maybe he doesn’t want to unpack that, maybe he doesn’t want to deeply evaluate just how lonely he’s been all these years. Maybe he’s not brave enough for that just yet. Still, he didn’t come from a veritable pride of Gryffindors for nothing. “Wouldn’t you like to, though?” Quirks his eyebrow for good measure.

It hits its target, disarms Haknyeon well enough. His eyes grow wide, mouth breaks into a surprised smile. “Maybe I would.”

Sunwoo’s not sure exactly what they’re doing or where they’re headed. He’s not sure he can remember any other conversations he’s had recently that have felt so much like a game, so much like a challenge. Something that he wanted to _win_ so badly. “Gonna be hard to do if we only ever see each other at meals.”

“So let’s see each other more, then.”

Sunwoo’s ears are beginning to burn, but Haknyeon’s are pink too. It’s all the consolation he needs. “Tonight, then,” he proposes, a spoonful of mashed potatoes halfway to his mouth. “I’ll give you that tour.”

Haknyeon’s sizing him up, he can tell. Something flashes in his eyes before he answers, “Sounds good. It’s a date.”

If Sunwoo hadn’t been expecting it, he might have choked on his food. But he thinks he’s learning Haknyeon a lot faster than he ever expected himself to. There’s something about him that makes paying attention easy.

💥

Sunwoo hadn’t seen where Haknyeon was set up last night (too busy trying not to wake people who don’t know him well enough to keep from getting mad). Standing beside his bed now makes the whole thing feel more real. He has a _friend_ in his House. He has a bed other than his own to hover around that he doesn’t have to climb a tower or know a special password to access. It’s just a few over from his own, in the same room, in the same House.

His mother might cry when he tells her.

He thinks he’ll hold off.

“Okay,” Haknyeon says, shutting the lid of the chest at the foot of his bed a little too loudly and adjusting the hem of his sweater. “I’m ready when you are.”

Sunwoo leads him from the dorm up to the castle’s Entrance Hall, not missing the way his eyes still go round with wonder at the sight of the common room, just like the day before. He wishes, for the first time, that the staircase was wider so they could walk together.

“Welcome,” he starts, putting on his best tour guide voice. It feels stupid, but Haknyeon’s smile makes it worth it. “Tonight I’ll be taking you to only the best spots Hogwarts has to offer. On your left, you’ll see the main entrance to the castle, which is unfortunately not special enough for us to stop and admire it. Follow me, please.” He starts walking without checking to see whether Haknyeon’s following, hopes it adds to the gag.

They make their way through the castle until they’ve come to a plain wooden door next to one of Sunwoo’s least favorite statues. “What I’m about to show you will change your life. I am bestowing you with this _gift_ because you’ve proven yourself worthy.”

“Oh, I’m _honored_ ,” Haknyeon responds, half playing along and half making fun.

Sunwoo leans forward and whispers the password, hoping to build up the drama of the moment. He pulls at the door handle and reveals one of the most beautiful, luxurious places he has ever laid eyes on.

Haknyeon starts laughing immediately, drawing too much attention. Sunwoo whisks him inside and shuts the door, quickly scans the room to make sure they’re alone. It would be too embarrassing to continue his schtick with other students around.

“It’s a bathroom,” Haknyeon observes between giggles.

“Indeed,” Sunwoo agrees, deadly serious. “It is the _best_ bathroom in the entire castle.”

“Sunwoo-” he starts, still in hysterics.

“Technically, I’m not even allowed to be in here. But Professor Smith made the mistake of naming my friend Jaehyun a prefect year before last, and he tells me the password whenever it changes. I just had to promise to not get caught by anyone with a stick up their ass who would rat us out.”

“Mhmm,” Haknyeon hums, nodding, trying not to dissolve into laughter. “So the first stop on my tour of Hogwarts is a fancy bathroom?”

“Yes, ungrateful. See if I ever help you sneak in here for a relaxing bath. They have lavender soap,” Sunwoo huffs, crossing his arms.

“Okay, okay,” Haknyeon says, smiling. “It’s a really nice bathroom. And I think I might want a bath with good soap at some point. So thank you, I will keep this gift in mind.”

“As you _should_ ,” Sunwoo admonishes, fighting the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“How often is it that you get to come in here? Have it to yourself without getting caught?” Haknyeon asks, pacing slowly around the perimeter of the giant bathtub in the middle of the room.

“Not often,” he admits. “But it’s nice when it works out. And sometimes I don’t have to be alone.”

Haknyeon stops and raises his eyebrows. “Have a bathing buddy, do you?”

“ _No_ ,” Sunwoo huffs. “You’re just like the rest of my friends. I just meant that a couple of my friends are actually allowed to be in here, so when it’s just us, I’m still good.”

“Would I still be good? With your friends?”

Haknyeon isn’t pacing anymore. He just stands on the opposite side of the room from Sunwoo, speaking softly, speaking in a way that sometimes feels layered with meaning. Like a trap, or a secret.

“I think you should meet them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The room grows quiet, and Sunwoo worries distantly about someone walking in. Getting caught now, after all this time, would be utterly devastating. It would put an end to his luxurious baths, it would invite a lifetime of teasing from his friends, it would lose more points for his House than his ego would allow (he’s still competitive, no matter whose side he’s on). But it would also mean the end of this night, and it’s only just begun.

“Let’s go.”

“Just like that?” Haknyeon teases. “Aren’t you gonna do a soap demonstration?”

“Later,” Sunwoo says, relishing the laugh it earns him. “For now, I have somewhere cooler than a bathroom to show you.”

“But it’s the _best_ bathroom, Sunwoo.” But he lets himself be led, no more protest.

The hall is empty when Sunwoo pokes his head out, so he pulls at Haknyeon and shuts the door as quickly and quietly as possible. Promises he’ll share the password once they’re somewhere ‘more discreet’. But he doesn’t know that he will; he likes the idea of Haknyeon needing him for something, even just the password to a bathroom. He wants to be relied on. Maybe Haknyeon will forget before they get to the library.

He manages to steer their conversation away from both the prefects’ bathroom _and_ Slytherin House the entirety of the journey, and figures there might be _some_ degree of reasoning to his ending up in this House in the first place. Sometimes he allows himself to think on it, his ambition, his cunning. But not often.

Despite how well Sunwoo had done with only talking about things that didn’t make him want to pull his hair out, the library doors are still a relief. Their next location is like a third home to him (the second being the rest of Hogwarts). If Sunwoo focuses enough, he can almost _feel_ the wood grain of their favorite table under his fingertips.

“This is it,” he says, stepping over the threshold.

“Sunwoo, this tour is so odd.”

“Follow me,” he presses, ignoring Haknyeon’s slight. He guides him through the maze of bookshelves, shushing him with a laugh when he sneezes at the dust. Haknyeon reaches out for his arm once, silently asking for him to wait as he takes a closer look at a softly glowing book all about charms used to create light. It’s brief, but the feeling of his fingers pressed to Sunwoo’s forearm stays, a small warmth.

“Here,” he says, sweeping his arm out like he’s presenting a game show prize. “My library table.”

“Oh wow, I’m impressed. It looks just like every other table.”

Sunwoo feigns offense, which really isn’t very hard. It’s a good table. “This one is special, though! This table has gotten me through more exams than I can remember. And it was picked based on _very_ specific criteria. Went through rigorous tests.”

“Like?”

“Well, look here,” Sunwoo starts, pulling Haknyeon over to the side of the table he stands at, facing Madame Mortemore’s desk. “Standing here, we can see her, but when you’re sitting at the table,” he pulls Haknyeon down to sit, “she can’t see us.”

“So?”

“So we can act like animals to a degree that other students can’t, of course.”

Haknyeon always smiles at Sunwoo so softly when he’s explaining things, especially if he plays professor and uses a jokingly huffy tone. The way his eyes slant at the ends, the swell of his cheeks and their light dusting of pink… it’s all encouraging. It’s all the signs of someone _listening_ , finally connecting, even though he’s wearing green. Sunwoo finds that with Haknyeon, it’s easy to overlook the color of his tie.

“If we’re gonna be friends, you’ll probably be spending a good amount of time at this table.”

“I thought we already were friends.”

Sunwoo feels his eyes go wide (just the tiniest bit, _nearly_ imperceptible) and wishes he was better at masking his surprise. “Well, yeah, we are. We are friends.”

“But I’ll still join your book club, of course,” Haknyeon jokes across the table. “I will admit, these chairs are more comfortable than they look.”

“ _Not_ a book club. Just the coolest and most worthwhile people at this school.”

“Oh, really?”

“Well, not Jaehyun. But everyone else is pretty cool.”

Haknyeon laughs at that, a bright sound in the dim quiet of the library. “I wanna meet him first.”

Sunwoo groans and stands, pulling at Haknyeon’s sleeve to get him to follow. They make their way through the library, Sunwoo quietly pointing out everything Haknyeon needs to know. The creaky floorboards to avoid on late nights before exams when the library is open as long as students need it. A few of the books Jacob found for him to combat the insomnia he had during fourth year which contain more little cures and remedies than he could ever name. The bookcases Madame Mortemore surveys especially heavily and thus require the most care to not get caught messing around near.

“Enjoy your crash course?” he whispers over his shoulder as they make their way back to home base.

“Very informative,” Haknyeon responds solemnly.

“Are you bored?”

“Can I be honest?”

That makes Sunwoo laugh, a good feeling. “No, you can’t.” From the table (Sunwoo’s navigational ground zero for the library since he first arrived at Hogwarts years ago), they trek back to the doors. Haknyeon waves courteously at Madame and she narrows her eyes and huffs in response.

Haknyeon’s face falls in surprise, and Sunwoo knows it’s just a joke, but he can’t keep from engaging damage control. “She does that to everyone. I’ve stopped saying bye to her.” He reaches out to grab Haknyeon’s arm but hesitates. Pulls back. “Follow me. You might like the last place.”

“I _did_ like the library, by the way,” Haknyeon says, following Sunwoo through the castle. “It wasn’t boring.”

“It’s okay if it was,” Sunwoo shrugs. “It’s just a place where I spend a lot of my time, so I figured I’d show you.”

“It seems like a place you’d like.”

Sunwoo looks at him then, and they meet eyes. Just for a moment, but his heart beats a second too fast. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Haknyeon answers, faraway. “You were alone when we met. And it’s quiet there. And kind of, like, soft?”

The stutter in his chest grows stronger, one beat tripping over itself, the next coming even faster. “Ah. I actually like people, really. I never really go alone.”

“Except at meals.”

“Yeah, except at meals, I guess,” Sunwoo concedes, seeing the conversation veer exactly where he had done so well keeping it from on the way to the library. “But now you’re here.” He hopes it isn’t too forward. It’s only been a day, but a friend is a hard thing to give up, no matter how new.

“Now I’m here,” he agrees. “Thanks for letting me sit with you. And taking me around.”

They stop at the foot of a staircase, waiting for it to turn where they need. “It’s nothing,” Sunwoo answers. And it is. And it isn’t. It’s _something_ , something that feels like change, but it’s no problem, carries no worry or reluctance. Spending time with Haknyeon is easy. “I like hanging out with you.”

He catches Haknyeon’s smile out of the corner of his eye and steps out onto the staircase. Lets himself sit with the warmth he feels spreading through his chest.

“Where are we going?” Haknyeon asks once the moment has stretched just shy of too long.

“You’ll see. It’s really pretty, though. Nice at night.”

“Like now.”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo breathes. “The sunset’ll be good.”

“I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s not totally beautiful, I’ll be mad at you.”

“Fine,” Sunwoo answers through a smile.

About halfway up the spiral staircase, the last leg of their journey, Haknyeon whines, “Sunwoo, this better be worth it.”

He likes the way Haknyeon says his name, even while he’s complaining. “It will be. It’s an essential location.”

And he thinks, based on the gasp he gets once they finally reach the top, that Haknyeon agrees.

Silence blankets them, stretching wide over everything they’ve said tonight just to fill up the quiet. Sunwoo watches Haknyeon step ever-closer to the edge of the Astronomy Tower. Watches him lean over the railing and takes his time in joining.

He remembers his first time up here. It was before he ever came up with his Astronomy class. Chanhee had told him during a free period that Juyeon had permission to come up to do some surveying work for the groundskeeper and had invited him to tag along. The three of them went up during lunch. Sunwoo had nearly been sick after looking out over the railing and spent the rest of the hour sitting against a solid wall, talking with Chanhee across the width of the tower and ruining Juyeon’s focus.

But now, when Haknyeon reaches back blindly for Sunwoo to come and join him, he doesn’t think about the height. He goes.

“You were right,” he whispers. “It’s really pretty.”

The light is fading into a peachy orange, something Sunwoo knows will soon give way to pinks and purples, eventually collapsing into the navy of night. They shouldn’t stay that long. But it _almost_ seems worth the house points they would lose, the shunning they’d face the next day.

“I almost never come here. Try to avoid it, usually.”

“Huh, why?” His eyebrows are knit together in confusion; it’s a sweetly funny look.

“Scared of heights,” Sunwoo answers, keeping his eyes trained on the sky.

“Oh, well we don’t have to-”

“ _And_ it’s frequently occupied by people making out.”

“Oh, how direct,” Haknyeon laughs, quirking his eyebrows. “Taking me up here on my second day. Are you sure you aren’t in Gryffindor?” he jokes. Sunwoo feels his gut twist, and the turmoil must show on his face because Haknyeon immediately asks, “Did I mess it up? I thought Gryffindors were the brave ones.”

“You got it right.” He takes a breath. Keeps from looking down. “I’m just… I have a complicated relationship with Gryffindor.”

Haknyeon doesn’t say anything, just turns to look at him. Then looks out to the sky, focusing somewhere around the same distant hill at the horizon Sunwoo’s been staring at. Waits for him.

“My entire family was in Gryffindor. Literally everyone.” It may be the memory, or maybe the frustration, but something brings a sort of tight smile to his face. “I grew up with it. It was like, I don’t know, an identity of mine. But then I got here, and…”

“And you’re a Slytherin.”

“Yup,” he answers, popping the ‘P’, trying to sweep away the tension he’s built, brush it straight over the edge of the tower. “I’m the only one.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”

“Hmm?”

Haknyeon turns to him again, waits for Sunwoo to meet his eyes. They’re gently slanted, sympathetic. “You really didn’t seem very excited about Slytherin when we first talked about it. But I get that now.”

“I just don’t…” He breathes and organizes his thoughts, sorts them all into the things he’s willing to share and the things he needs to keep. He thinks, though, that he can trust Haknyeon to take care of it all. “I don’t understand how I could belong here. Obviously I do, I guess, but-”

“Well, is it obvious, or do you just guess? Do you _feel_ like you fit in?”

Sunwoo takes a moment to answer. Swallows around the sight of Haknyeon’s face in the rosy light and keeps going. “No. I mean, I feel like my personality might fit the values or whatever, but the House? I’ve never fit with the House.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

This is where, ordinarily, he might have lashed out, temper snapping. He can see himself doing it in his mind’s eye. If it were Juyeon, Eric, even _Jacob_ standing across from him, he would. He’d throw his hands up and shut it down, stop thinking so deeply and go to sleep. But it’s Haknyeon. “I know.”

“You just want to be in Gryffindor?”

“I _thought_ I would be. It was like getting the rug pulled out from under me.”

Haknyeon’s hand moves the slightest bit on the railing. One centimeter at most. One centimeter closer to where Sunwoo’s own hand rests. “Well, I’ll admit I haven’t seen much. But I think you’re where you need to be.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re not your family, you know? You don’t have to be the same as everyone else.”

“Why couldn’t I be, though?”

It’s more than he intended to say. Heavier, too heavy for a tower so tall in the sky. Heavy enough to plummet straight to the ground, dragging Sunwoo along behind.

Haknyeon’s pinky brushes his, and Sunwoo pulls his hand back.

“Why did you transfer here?” It comes out harshly, but Sunwoo doesn’t have time to kick himself before Haknyeon answers.

“My family bought a new farm, sold the old one. I didn’t want to live halfway around the world from them.” His tone is clipped. Sunwoo thinks he probably deserves it.

“Did you go to another school? For magic?”

“Fenghuang.”

Sunwoo taps at the railing and waits for him to continue. But the silence stretches. It’s an ugly feeling. “Fenghuang?” he prompts.

Haknyeon’s looking at him like he’s dissecting him, pulling him apart in his mind. The sky casts him in a deep pink, almost red, and Sunwoo feels small. “It’s in China. Close enough to home, for someone who doesn’t have a wizarding school within a train ride’s distance from their house.”

“Did you like it there?”

“Yeah. It was incredible.”

Sunwoo sets his hand back on the railing. A peace offering, patching up the feeling, guiding it back to when they were both smiling and Sunwoo’s biggest concern was the way his heart stutters just from finally having someone he can _always_ be around. “I’m glad you’re here, though.” If Chanhee could see him, he would make fun of the sappiness.

The smile he gets in return is a relief, a lungful of air after just barely too long underwater. “I’ve been told I’m good to have around.”

“Yeah? By who?”

He gasps and bats at Sunwoo’s arm. “By _everyone_! I’m a delight!”

Sunwoo is still scared of heights. He still feels nauseated whenever he glances down to the rolling hills below, still plans to decline if Juyeon ever invites him back up for the volunteer work he’s _still doing years later_. But the Astronomy Tower has a new feeling tied to it now.

It’s not just sickness, nerves, schoolwork he couldn’t care less about. It’s not just fake gagging whenever Chanhee tells him about whichever couple were eating each other alive the last time he went up.

Now it’s a bit softer. Evening colors and Haknyeon’s breathless laugh.

“Smells like rain,” he observes. Sunwoo hadn’t noticed.

“We should go back.”

Haknyeon nods and grabs his hand from the railing, leads him back to the staircase.

Now the Astronomy Tower is nighttime and the feeling of his friend’s callused hands. It smells like rain. So they go to bed.

💥

Routine builds up around them like the snow forts Sunwoo used to build with his cousins. Each morning, Haknyeon wakes up early and drags Sunwoo through the motions of getting ready for the day. Each meal is spent at the end of the Slytherin table, sometimes loudly enough to disturb the other students there (once they start laughing, it can be difficult to stop). Each evening ends with Haknyeon padding back to his own bed after spending an hour sitting on Sunwoo’s, regaling him with stories from the day and watching him pull on his pajamas.

Sunwoo is splayed out on his bed listening to Haknyeon sing softly to himself on the floor, procrastinating the very assignment Hak (he’s never called a Slytherin by a nickname before) is working on, when he realizes he can’t remember much of the first month of this school year. Vivid memory picks up at Hak’s first dinner. It isn’t a surprise. He doesn’t miss the rest too sorely.

“I’m not doing very well in some of my classes.”

“Huh?” he asks, stepping back out of his head.

“I’m failing Herbology. And it’s getting close with Ancient Runes.” He doesn’t even look up from the dusty old book he’s been poring over for the past twenty minutes.

“Oh,” Sunwoo responds intelligently. “Well, do you want help?”

“Do you know someone who could?”

“Definitely,” he says, glad he can actually contribute. “I have this one friend who’s, like, impossibly good at Herbology. And he’s nice, he would definitely be willing to help. And there are a couple more in Ancient Runes. I’m fine at it, but they’re better. I’ll ask and see if any of them could help out.”

“Thanks,” Haknyeon says. Sunwoo leans down to see the soft smile he imagines Hak’s wearing.

“You should meet them anyway.”

“I have-”

“Not just know their names and wave to them in the hall, like _actually_ meet them,” Sunwoo interrupts.

He knows Haknyeon’s already made a handful of other friends. He’s just that type of person, magnetic. People want to be around him. And he spends time with them, sits with them in classes and lounges with them in the courtyard on the days when it isn’t covered in early snow. But Sunwoo takes pride in knowing none of them are closer to Hak than he is. None of them have felt his hands on their shoulders in the dark of the stairway to the Slytherin common room or seen his face in the sunset at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Sunwoo has. None of them pass him baskets of his favorite food at meals before he can even ask. Sunwoo does.

So he feels like he has a right to invite Hak in a little further.

“I’ll talk to them for you,” he says, leaning down even farther from his mattress to pick a stray piece of confetti (left from the practice round of a charm Hak wants to start using in the stands at Quidditch matches) from his hair. “It’s okay to struggle in classes. It’ll be fine once you talk to them, I’m sure.”

“I know it’s okay,” Haknyeon says, still nonchalant, focused on his assignment. “I’m only struggling with Herbology because the plants here are so different from what we had around Fenghuang. And the focus of our plant class was all different. And Ancient Runes is just a matter of practice, I think.”

“Oh?” Sunwoo asks.

“Yeah. I’m not worried.” Hak looks up at him then, eyes alight with determination. “I can do things no one else here even knows about. By the time I’m done, I’ll know twice as much as they do.” He looks back to his book, immerses himself in finding the passage he needs to answer his next question.

Sunwoo’s amazed. As he so often is, listening to Hak.

Haknyeon was right, that first night when they talked about their luck at his being Sorted into Slytherin. He belongs here, something that’s become abundantly clear to Sunwoo in their time together.

He flops onto his back and looks to the emerald canopy draped over his bed. Lets his eyelids fall shut, lets himself drift away. Until, of course, he feels Hak’s hand tug at his foot.

“Get working,” he chastises with a smile. “Due tomorrow,” he adds, waving his parchment in the air.

“I don’t wanna, though,” Sunwoo whines.

“I thought someone who’s been going to school his whole life would have a better work ethic. The Muggle-borns are used to constant schoolwork. So, Mr. I-Went-to-Muggle-Primary, why aren’t you?”

The teasing does what it’s meant to do. He swipes at Hak’s hand, kicks his foot, and sits up to begin working.

He’s not actually angry, but he can’t let Haknyeon know that. How would he explain that even the most boring work is okay when he’s there, humming songs Sunwoo’s never even heard?

Much easier to keep it light, let Hak assume he’s only as important to Sunwoo as he wants to be.

💥

He slams their books on the table and winces immediately for fear that Madame Mortemore might’ve heard.

Chanhee’s quick to shush him, dragging out the hiss. “You’re always late now,” he teases.

“Am not,” Sunwoo says. “This is only like the third time this year.”

“Hi, Chanhee,” Haknyeon greets at Sunwoo’s side.

“Hi, Hak,” he chirps in response. Sunwoo rolls his eyes. “Have you met Younghoon yet?” he asks, gesturing to the beanstalk seated next to him.

“No. Hey, I’m Haknyeon.”

Younghoon waves politely, melted sugar smile charming Hak immediately, just like it does everyone else. Sunwoo sees it on his face, the same way he probably looked when _he_ first met Younghoon. “I heard you need a little help with Herbology?” he asks, tapping the cover of his favorite leather-bound herbarium.

Sunwoo takes the seat across from Chanhee so Hak and Younghoon can talk plants. He had planned on silently studying, but, “Where’s Kevin? I thought he was coming?”

“He’ll be here,” Chanhee answers, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. “I imagine he got a little hung up in the common room.”

And that piques his interest. “What? Wait, is Jacob gonna-”

“I don’t know,” Chanhee says, hands up. “I don’t know why he’d do it while Kevin’s on his way out, but I also don’t know why else Kevin would be late, so…”

“I wish he would just _tell him already_. They’re like this close to getting married anyway,” Sunwoo complains, pressing two fingers firmly together in Chanhee’s face and making him laugh. Younghoon shoots them a warning look, but he’s too soft to be intimidating.

Sunwoo reluctantly cracks open his copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ , thumbing roughly at the parchment he shoved in between the pages where he last left off. Only half of the assignment’s questions are filled out and it’s due in two days. A rather labor-intensive assignment, too. So every rational cell in his body is telling him to hunker down and begin working, at least until Kevin arrives.

But Haknyeon is laughing at something Younghoon said. It’s only natural that Sunwoo wants to hear what it was. So he lays his head on his open book instead of sticking his nose in it and hopes the ink on the parchment won’t rub off on his cheek.

Chanhee nudges him, but a simple, “Tired,” is enough to get him to mind his business.

Younghoon’s turned his book around so Hak can look through it. He watches him flick through the pages for a moment before reaching over to flip back to the section Hak needs. He must have missed it by himself. Haknyeon looks up at him and smiles, uses his quill to point at something on the page and raises his eyebrows the way he does when he’s telling a joke. Younghoon leans over the table to see what he’s pointing to and laughs quietly once he finds it.

Sunwoo turns his head to watch the library door, not interested in Herbology studies. Not interested in jokes he doesn’t get to hear.

Chanhee only nudges him three more times to try to get him to study before Sunwoo spots a familiar twiggy Hufflepuff headed towards the table.

“Kevin!” he hisses, low enough to fly under the librarian’s radar (he’s a quick learner, and Chanhee had kicked him hard under the table when he was too loud earlier). “Kevin Moon!”

Kevin looks… well, he looks just like he always does.

Not particularly glowy, euphoric, or any other chichi word Sunwoo can think of to describe how he _might_ look if Jacob had followed through.

Chanhee notices too. “What’s up, Kev?” he asks. Sunwoo knows he’s prodding, but hopefully Kevin won’t realize.

“Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “Jacob asked to talk, but then it seemed like it might be something important, so I told him I had somewhere to be and didn’t have time, but-”

“It’s fine,” Sunwoo says. “I was late too, and I didn’t even have an excuse. Hak was actually the one practically dragging me here.”

“What did he wanna talk about?” Chanhee pries. Sunwoo had figured it would be suspicious to ask, but Kevin doesn’t seem to think so.

“He never actually said,” he answers. “Remind me to check back in later,” he adds, eyebrows knitting together the way they do when he’s trying hard to remember something. Sunwoo thinks he was mostly talking to himself, but he writes ‘remind kevin abt jacob’ in the margin of his parchment anyway.

Kevin pulls up a chair, apologizing again. “Really sorry, really. I know I was supposed to help your friend-”

“He’s been working with Younghoon the whole time,” Sunwoo says, not liking the way it sounds so harsh in his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he tries again. “He’s been busy.”

Kevin nods and opens one of his books, and the three of them stay (mostly) quiet so Younghoon and Hak can focus.

“So remember,” Younghoon whispers, pointing at something on the page in front of Haknyeon, “if you’re going to try to memorize them in groups, breaking them down like this is the easiest way.”

Hak smiles softly and nods. “Thanks. It’s nice of you to help me out-”

Sunwoo turns back to Kevin, who’s humming a song by a Muggle artist he likes and bobbing his head, in his own world studying.

“Hak does that all the time,” Sunwoo says, poking his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“He sings and hums while he does everything. It’s like having the radio on constantly.”

“Sunwoo, you’re so annoying,” Chanhee tells him, never even looking up from his book.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Love you, too.”

“Kevin,” Younghoon coos across the table. “My favorite Hufflepuff, come here. Ancient Runes time.”

“I’m only your ‘favorite Hufflepuff’ because Jacob’s not here,” he teases, dragging his borrowed chair over to the other end of the table.

Voice still dripping with honey, Younghoon responds, “No comment.” Bats his eyelashes and dodges Kevin swinging at his shoulder blade.

Once they start talking Ancient Runes, Sunwoo tunes them out for real. He gets enough of that class listening to Professor Kloves ramble on through his lectures.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to genuinely study for long; twenty minutes into Kevin’s spiel on the importance of noting brushstroke order of letters done in ink, Haknyeon and Younghoon have to leave for History of Magic. Sunwoo remembers hating that class, remembers why he dropped it. But seeing the two of them say goodbye and walk away together makes him think that maybe he should have given it another chance.

Chanhee leans back in his chair and watches them closely, narrowing his eyes as they round the corner that leads back to the doors.

He instantly snaps his head back to the table and leans forward, and Sunwoo sees his life flash before his eyes.

“Sunwoo, you never told me you like Haknyeon.”

He’s still reeling from the fear of thinking Chanhee was leaping forward to strangle him, so it takes a moment to process. “Huh?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks with a pout. “I’m arguably your best friend.”

“Because I don’t?” he tries.

Chanhee and Kevin share a look. Kevin bites his lip, hesitating. “It really seems like you do, though.”

Sunwoo’s brain is too loud. “You’re one to talk.”

Chanhee’s eyes flash at him and he redirects, “I haven’t seen you act like this with anyone in _years_.”

“He’s my friend. Act like what? What do you even mean?”

Chanhee pushes a torn strip of parchment riddled with tally marks across the table. “You mentioned him eight times _while he was literally sitting right there_ , and I caught you looking at him instead of studying thirty-nine times. That’s this group of tallies,” he explains, as if Sunwoo couldn't distinguish between the group of eight and the one of thirty-nine. “And I am absolutely certain I didn’t catch you one hundred percent of the time, so…”

“So what?” he asks, cornered.

“So,” Kevin starts, gently, “that’s not really how you act with the rest of us, is it?”

“What is this, an intervention?”

“Of course not,” Chanhee says. “I just wanted to know why you didn’t tell me. I thought maybe you didn’t trust me or something. But now I see you just hadn’t gotten around to seeing it yourself.”

Sunwoo doesn’t respond. He looks at his parchment and lets his eyes lose focus.

Remembers the way Haknyeon’s cheeks looked dusted in sunset pink.

“I mean, maybe,” he concedes.

Chanhee smiles and grabs his hand. “This is so exciting! You haven’t had a crush since-”

“Don’t!” he warns, shaking his hand off. But seeing Chanhee so excited has already worked its charm and he can’t bring himself to sulk too much anymore. _Even_ at the threat of being forced to remember his (not _nearly_ as significant as Chanhee remembers) crush on him back in third year.

“Remember when you told me?” he teases.

“I don’t wanna be your friend anymore,” Sunwoo groans into his hands.

“So, are you gonna tell Haknyeon?” Kevin asks.

“No.”

“No?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he says, hoping they can’t see how red he just _knows_ his ears are. “I don’t know, I haven’t exactly had time to think about it.”

Kevin nods and starts gnawing at his lip again. The same silence that always rushes in whenever they get too close to talking about something real settles. It’s quiet enough to hear whispering and pages rustling at other tables, the distant click of Madame’s heels on the polished wood floors.

They sit and listen.

Sunwoo thinks.

His head hurts a little bit. He hasn’t had enough water to drink today and he slept poorly last night. That must be where the pressure is coming from.

“You don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to,” Chanhee says.

Sunwoo nods quickly. If he responds without hesitation, he can brush off the new weight slowly settling on his shoulders like a bird of prey perched above carrion. Kevin and Chanhee will realize it’s all no big deal that Sunwoo was so lost in his own head that he didn’t even realize he likes Haknyeon. _Shit_ . _What’s he gonna tell his mom now?_

“But you can, too. Do what you wanna do,” Kevin adds.

Another nod. “I might go back to the dorm. Take a nap before dinner.”

“Okay,” Chanhee says with a smile. Grabs Sunwoo’s hand as he gets up and hisses, “I love you, don’t forget.”

He shakes him off with a smile, walking everything back to the nonchalance of earlier. “That’s pretty gay, Chanhee.”

“You love it!” he dares to call after Sunwoo as he makes his way to the doors. Brave. Chanhee is usually a strict enforcer of the unofficial library decibel limit.

The last thing he hears before rounding the corner is Kevin’s giggle. Hopes the two of them are talking about their _own_ romantic woes instead of his.

Sunwoo has a lot of thinking to do.

💥

He hadn’t taken a nap, which is fine; it probably would have messed up his sleep schedule anyway.

Instead of sleeping, he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling, drifting away into his head. Only a few other Slytherins had a free period (he had had to fight the administration to drop History of Magic, most students thought it wasn’t worth it), so he had the space mostly to himself. Made it much easier to comb back through every single notable memory he has of his time with Haknyeon, scrutinize the softness at their edges. Analyze his own feelings under a microscope.

It’s why he decided to arrive early to dinner. He sits alone in their spot, glancing over to the main doors every few minutes (seconds?) so he can catch the exact moment.

He knows how he feels when he sees Jaehyun wave at him at the end of the hall or Younghoon smile at him across a room. He knows how he feels when he hears Eric laugh after a long day.

But does it feel the same with Haknyeon?

The doors open and green- and red-bedecked students begin to pour into the Great Hall, chattering in little pods about whichever tedious project they’ve just been assigned. Sunwoo scans the crowd.

Hak finds him first.

Their eyes meet and a smile tears its way across his face, making the corners of his eyes scrunch up and his cheeks swell. It’s late autumn dipping into winter and the sun set an hour ago, but the room lights up. Sunwoo is helpless to stop his own smile.

It doesn’t feel the same with Haknyeon.

How scary, that it doesn’t feel the same with Haknyeon.

“Sunwoo! I see you decided to shake it up a bit with the wardrobe, very nice,” he jokes, pointing to his crimson slippers under the table.

“Going for a casual look this evening.”

“Maybe I should get some. Emerald green. We can match,” he says, hauling the books he didn’t bother to drop off at the dorm to the tabletop.

_I think I like you._

“You think you could pull ‘em off?”

Haknyeon scoffs and Sunwoo pays close attention to the way his heart feels like a fish flopping around in his chest. That’s probably what it’s been doing this whole time. Sunwoo imagines he has about five years too much practice suppressing his feelings to have noticed without Chanhee’s assistance.

They while away the meal talking about nothing. History of Magic and new music (by Muggle artists, something Sunwoo usually only gets to talk about with Chanhee and, on occasion, Kevin). He lets himself settle into seeing Hak as a dream.

“Kevin and Younghoon were nice for helping me out. Thanks for asking them.”

“You’re welcome,” he answers, ladling stew into a too-small bowl and splashing some on the table. “They’re good about stuff like that.”

“Younghoon and Eric and I think Jaehyun are in my History of Magic class. Eric is insane.”

“I know he is,” Sunwoo laughs. “He accidentally charmed his hair a _gorgeous_ powder blue last year, did you know?” he asks, laying his pretentious old person accent on as thick as it comes.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna bully him for that,” Haknyeon says, awestruck. “You’ve given me dangerous information.”

“He deserves it every once in a while. Jaehyun is too sweet with him, he thinks he can get away with anything.”

“Are they…” Hak trails off, holding his hand up and letting his wrist go slack, shooting Sunwoo a curious look.

“I don’t even know.” Fresh laughter bubbles up each time he looks at Hak’s hand, still hovering in question. “Eric’s like his dog or something. He does whatever Jaehyun says, you should see it.”

“Oh, I’d love to. Imagine having someone who would just… do anything for you.”

“Your Slytherin is showing,” Sunwoo jokes, sipping at his pumpkin juice.

“It better be,” he huffs. “I’m here for a reason. I know what I want.”

Sunwoo catches his eyes over the rim of his glass and chokes. Wonders whether he would have reacted the same before seeing Chanhee’s tallies, if Haknyeon winking at him while talking about what he ‘wants’ would have affected him the same.

His throat burns, but Haknyeon is laughing. It’s a balm for the soreness _and_ his bruised ego.

“Here,” Haknyeon offers a napkin and an extra roll from the bread basket on his side of the table.

“Thanks,” Sunwoo rasps.

“I like eating with you.”

“Entertaining, right?” he asks, mopping up the tiny bit of spilled juice and willing his embarrassed blush away. “I bet nobody got to see a spit take at the Gryffindor table tonight.” Haknyeon cocks his head to the side and Sunwoo amends, “No, you’re right, they probably did.”

“It wasn’t so much a full _spit take_ ,” Hak says. “I’m sure only like four other people even noticed.” Sunwoo’s face burns. Haknyeon giggles.

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it. Cause I feel like a raccoon scratched its way out of my throat.”

“I really do like eating with you,” he presses, tearing a piece off his own fluffy dinner roll. “It’s something I look forward to.”

Sunwoo nods and stuffs his mouth with bread. No expectation of a response when he’s chewing, a tactic his cousins have used on him at every single family reunion he can remember.

By the time he’s swallowed, Haknyeon has moved on to complaining about the due dates on two of their Potions assignments ( _“He might as well have thrown a third in between, the first one due is gonna suck anyway.”_ ), which is luckily something he can just listen to passively without being expected to contribute.

As the meal comes to a close, they part ways. Haknyeon lugs his things back to the dorm and Sunwoo trudges to the library for what feels like the tenth time this week.

His feet drag on the stone floor. Sitting by himself, watching the Great Hall doors like a hawk, he had thought knowing might feel heavy. That it might be a weight pulling at his neck, making it harder to breathe around someone he’s found so much… _belonging_ in.

But walking to the library now to help Chanhee cram for an Arithmancy test (overkill, Sunwoo tells him every time), all the heaviness he feels dragging him down is distinctly other. It’s sleep or a lack thereof. It’s classes and Quidditch practice and continuously having to come up with increasingly creative excuses to get out of helping Juyeon with his surveying work.

Buried underneath all of that is a lightness. The beat of hummingbird wings.

Even if sometimes he doesn’t have the words to respond.

He hopes Hak will still be awake when he goes back to the dorm.

💥

“There is quite literally no way you could fail this test. I’m serious, Chanhee,” he asserts, pulling Chanhee’s fingers from their death grip on his arm one by one. “I’m tired. We’ve done enough.”

“I’m so bad with advanced theory, though,” he whines, burying his face in Sunwoo’s shoulder. “I wish it was all calculation.” Sunwoo tries to get up from his seat, but Chanhee anchors him to the spot. “Please please please, can we run through Wenlock’s Properties again?”

“We’ve done those so many times I’m sure _I_ could recite them by now.”

“But-”

“The best thing you can do now is get some sleep,” he says, rubbing Chanhee’s back. “Come on, let’s go.” He doesn’t wait for Chanhee to relent, just starts gathering their things and leaves, knowing he’ll follow, reluctant or not.

Sunwoo passes Madame’s desk without a thought, just as he advised Haknyeon to do the first time they came here together. She’s always liked Chanhee for some reason, though, so she smiles and waves at him. He returns the gesture tiredly and with disappointed eyes.

They walk for a bit in silence, Chanhee trailing just behind Sunwoo, huffing every once in a while to let him know he’s still annoyed.

“Staying up all night won’t help you. You know that,” he says. Doesn’t turn around to see how Chanhee reacts; he knows he’ll respond.

“I just wanted to do one more set, though.”

Sunwoo stops walking, turns quickly enough to catch Chanhee off guard. Tries to soften his voice. Sometimes Sunwoo has to be the bigger person. “Just one more?”

“One more,” Chanhee nods. “That’s it.”

He lets his schoolbag fall to the ground and sits next to it against the wall. Sunset was at least two hours ago and the corridor is dim enough that he has to strain his eyes to read the charmed cards (which only reveal the correct answer once it’s been stated out loud, _so_ annoying) Chanhee shoves into his hands. But he’s read them so many times tonight, he doesn’t really even need to see the words anymore. “Don’t ever say I never do anything for you.”

“I love you, too.”

They tear through the deck in record time. Chanhee doesn’t even need to think before he rattles off principles and theories; he frequently answers before Sunwoo can even finish reading the question. Sunwoo had been right. He didn’t need any more practice. But the way Chanhee’s eyes soften into contentment when he humors him makes it worth it (something he’s rarely in a mushy enough mood to admit out loud).

By the time they finish, Chanhee’s leaning his entire exhaustion-heavy body into Sunwoo’s arm. His jaw digs into Sunwoo’s shoulder as he shifts to collect his cards and tuck them back into his own schoolbag. He yawns and mumbles, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I know I’m crazy sometimes, but-”

“You’re not crazy, don’t worry about it.”

It’s a familiar waltz. But if Chanhee’s academic fanaticism was a problem for Sunwoo, he would have left by now. He tells him as much each time they do this.

Sunwoo starts to push himself up the wall and Chanhee pulls him back down. Biting his lip, he asks, “Can I ask you something stupid?”

“You told me three years ago you didn’t like me back, too late now,” he jokes, tugging his arm from Chanhee’s grip. When he’s met with silence, he says, “Yeah, go ahead.”

“It’s not anything important-”

“Go ahead, Chanhee.”

“I don’t know what to do about Sangyeon.”

“That’s not a question.”

Chanhee frowns the way that makes him look like a duckling. Third year Sunwoo would have lost his mind. Current Sunwoo is tired and itching to get back to the Slytherin dorm (something he never thought he would be so eager to do).

“What do you think I should do? There, that’s a question.”

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“He sent me a letter this evening. I found it on my bed after dinner. Juyeon probably delivered it for him, you know how they’re close.” Chanhee looks more unsure than Sunwoo’s seen him in a while.

Sunwoo slumps back against the wall. “Okay, so… what about it?”

“It was really nice,” he says, wringing his hands. Sunwoo can’t see whether he’s blushing in the low light, but his lips are turned up softly. “He’s really nice.” It comes out as a whisper, but it’s always when Chanhee gets soft like this that Sunwoo can read him with the most clarity.

“So what’s the problem?” he asks.

“He’s a seventh year, you know? He’s leaving soon.”

“Not _so_ soon.”

“Would it be worth it, though? What if he gets so busy after he leaves that I become just… part of the background?”

Sunwoo can already feel his skin crawling before he says it, but he knows Chanhee needs to hear the truth. “You’re not the sort of person someone would let slip to the background.” He doesn’t give Chanhee the time to pester him about it before asking, “And what’s the alternative? Just dance around each other for another half a year and always wonder what could’ve been?”

Chanhee stares at his hands in his lap, silent. Then, “What if I’m misinterpreting? I need him to make the first move.”

That makes Sunwoo laugh, a sound that cracks the thick quiet of the hallway. “What did the letter say?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“If it’s sappy enough that you won’t even tell me, then you’re not misinterpreting. And he _has_ been making moves. Just because he’s a Gryffindor doesn’t mean he’s gonna kill a dragon to win your hand, Chanhee. You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m _not_ being ridiculous-”

Sunwoo stands and offers his hand to pull Chanhee up after him. “ _You_ have to do something now. I won’t stay here another second, I’m tired.”

Instead of fighting, he lets himself be pulled. They walk together until they have to veer off separate ways to their dorms.

“I will,” Chanhee promises, walking backwards from Sunwoo. “I’ll do something about it, don’t worry.”

He’s tired of talking. His jaw is sore from hours of quizzing and advice-giving. He waves and retreats to the dungeons, ready to brave the staircase down and pass out.

💥

“ _Fuck_ ,” he curses, stumbling on the final step, just like every other night he comes back with his vision blurred from fatigue.

“Sunwoo?”

That voice.

“Hak?” Every night since arriving, Haknyeon has gone to bed before Sunwoo. Sometimes he will have been asleep for hours by the time Sunwoo finally nods off. “What’re you doing in the common room?”

“You weren’t home yet.”

 _Home_. Sunwoo’s stomach does a somersault. He searches for Haknyeon in the dark of the room, illuminated now only by the tiny slivers of light filtering in from the lake.

“And it’s not that late,” he continues.

“But it’s a little late for you,” Sunwoo says, feeling his way to the table Hak is hunched over.

“Nobody else goes to sleep as early as I do, I figured why not wait?”

“Speaking of everybody else, where are they?” Sunwoo knows it’s late enough that they’re technically supposed to be back in their dorms by now, but usually people populate the common room for at least a couple hours before turning in for the night. Now, though, it’s deserted.

“Dunno,” Hak answers with a shrug. “A lot of people are up in the dorm. I don’t know if it’s everyone, but-” he pauses to yawn, “probably most of them.”

“You’re tired.”

“I can’t sleep, though.”

Sunwoo rests his head on his hands and lets his eyes fall shut for a moment. “So you weren’t just waiting for me to come back.” He does well in keeping his voice light and gently mocking, free of disappointment.

“I was waiting for you to come back _because_ I couldn’t sleep. How about that?” Haknyeon knocks one of Sunwoo’s arms out from under his chin, brushes his fingers against his hand where it lies on the table. Haknyeon’s touch is always feather-light in moments like this, the ones that will end up starlight-dusted in Sunwoo’s memory.

“And what did you expect me to do about it?” He hears the breathlessness in his own voice.

“Talk to me.”

Sunwoo’s eyes have adjusted enough now to see Hak’s face as if it was lit by midnight sun instead of the eerie blue glow of the water outside. He can see the rough, dotty texture of the skin at his temple, the creases of his eyelids, the ill-defined shadows his eyelashes cast against his cheeks. Sunwoo’s eyelids, beyond heavy less than five minutes ago, are now wide open. Hak’s face is enough motivation to keep looking.

“About…?”

“I don’t know. Something we haven’t talked about yet.”

It takes Sunwoo a moment. He runs through his knowledge of Haknyeon: his favorite class (a tie between Care of Magical Creatures and History of Magic), what he misses most about Fenghuang (the garden full of peach trees), even his first pet’s name (Honey).

“What about…” he starts. Takes a breath and allows himself to sink into the feeling of the scene, no matter how it might make past Sunwoo cringe. Allows himself to sit in a blue-lit room with the boy he likes ( _the boy he likes_ ) and listen. “What about your family?”

Haknyeon hums and smiles at his hands, still resting just centimeters from Sunwoo’s.

“I mean, they must be pretty cool, if you moved across the world to be with them.”

Hak laughs once at that. “Yeah, they’re my family. Of course I came with them.”

“So tell me. I don’t know about ‘em yet.”

Haknyeon’s eyes flick up and meet Sunwoo’s. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

“Who’re you closest to?”

“My older sister,” he answers without missing a beat. “We spent all of our time together. Everything I learned about being ambitious, goals and working for what I want, that’s all from her.”

Sunwoo treads lightly. “Spent? You don’t anymore?”

“We do,” he amends. “We just don’t have as much time together now that I’m in school.”

“Oh? Is she old enough that she’s in a job?”

Haknyeon shifts his eyes to the window looking out into the lake. “Yeah, but that doesn’t really matter. She wouldn’t be here anyway. She’s not magical.”

“Oh.” It’s all he can say. Haknyeon’s voice is more serious than Sunwoo’s heard it before, heavy with story. He waits.

“My mom has magic, but not my dad. We grew up with it, though, it was never a secret. Ukhyung loved it.” Sunwoo knows he should look elsewhere, stop staring so intently at Haknyeon’s face (his tired eyes, his gently arching lips). But bathed in blue, he’s even softer than in the day. “She couldn’t wait to start learning the things my mom knew how to do. It was so far away, but she knew everything about Fenghuang. She would always talk about how she’d bring back the things she learned to help on the farm. She actually started studying by herself from some of mom’s books when she was eight.” He smiles the way people do when they’ve lost.

Sunwoo wishes he knew what to say.

“There was one time when we were younger. I must’ve been only around five or six. We were playing around a pig pen, and she fell in.” He turns back to Sunwoo, eyes sharper. “Pigs can be really dangerous. It was terrifying. I remember watching her trying to get out, but she couldn’t get over the top slat in the fence. She was shouting, I was so scared it was gonna make them angry.” He tilts his head up and the light filtering in from the window catches the top of his cheekbones, casting him dramatically. Or maybe that’s just how Sunwoo’s seeing him, he doesn’t know. “But then the board just… disappeared. She fell out of the pen and broke her arm. When we looked back at it, the board was exactly where it had been.”

“Oh,” Sunwoo repeats. It’s the only thing his mouth can say, the only thing he remembers.

“We knew one of us had magic. Maybe both, but at least one. We didn’t know which one, though.”

“It was you.” It sounds too harsh from Sunwoo’s mouth.

Haknyeon nods. “And she never even complained. She never let me see her sad. She kept trying, and nothing ever worked. She wasn’t invited to study at Fenghuang. And still, every time I came home for a holiday, she would sit there and ask me how it was, and she would listen to me talk forever about it and she would never, _ever_ complain.”

Sunwoo is reminded of his childhood home. The little charms his dad cast to lighten the housework load. The pictures of distant and dead relatives waving at him from the walls. The absolute certainty that he could have it all forever.

“She sounds cool.”

Hak smiles then. “Yeah, she is.”

“Can I say something selfish?”

He nods. “We all have to be a little selfish sometimes.”

Sunwoo tries to hide the steeling breath he takes. “I’m glad it was you.”

Haknyeon’s eyes dart to meet Sunwoo’s. His lips are still curved in a barely-there smile.

“Are you tired?” Sunwoo asks.

“We’re both tired.”

“Should we go to sleep, then?”

Haknyeon takes his time in answering. For a moment, Sunwoo’s worried he knows. Maybe that he knew even before Chanhee made Sunwoo take a step back and look for himself, maybe that he knew it would happen before it ever did, knew from the moment he laid his hand on Sunwoo’s shoulder for guidance in the dark. But all he says is, “Okay.”

And Sunwoo knows he’s the one who suggested it, but now he wishes he hadn’t. Or that Hak had put up more of a fight. Or that he wasn’t now sitting alone at the table with Haknyeon waiting for him at the door to the dorm.

_God, maybe he should-_

“Tired, Sunwoo? We’re both tired, we should sleep.”

Sunwoo thinks that ‘tired’ is the ugliest word he’s ever heard. Thinks he’s heard it too many times tonight, thinks that it was created to keep people from doing things they need to do. ‘Tired’ is the glass wall between what Haknyeon knows about their relationship and what Sunwoo does. If they had saved more energy for each other (or dipped into tomorrow’s), then maybe they could spend all night at this table that’s always been the wrong color for Sunwoo’s taste. But he wants to. Now, he wants to sit at this table in the Slytherin common room, and he wants to talk.

“Yeah. Coming,” he says, pushing himself up.

His feet drag. His brain is slow and his eyelids are heavy. Still, he knows he could have held them open to look at Haknyeon a little longer.

He goes through the motions of unwinding and falls into his bed, feeling a lot like the lethargic-looking Muggle art his mom studies. Shuts his eyes and struggles to remember a time he’s ever fallen asleep before Hak. Maybe it’s never happened before.

All the times he lay awake in third year wishing Chanhee was closer flood back. He sleeps on the opposite end of the castle, and his bed never once felt farther away than Haknyeon’s does now.

💥

“Come on, almost breakfast time.” The voice is soft, warm. Like his favorite blanket back home or the taste of toffee.

Sunwoo groans and pushes Hak’s hand off his shoulder.

Hak has a pattern he follows each time he wakes Sunwoo up. He opens like sunlight, honey-sweet. When met with resistance, he puts an end to the act and starts fighting back. So when his robes go sailing through the air and land on his face, when he feels the side of his bed dip under Haknyeon’s weight as he tries to roll him to the floor, Sunwoo isn’t surprised.

He only relents when he’s pulled the robes from his face and realizes how close he actually is to the edge of the bed. “Ah, shit, okay!”

Haknyeon laughs and sits at the end of the bed, his usual perch in the mornings. “Eric and I are gonna hang out a little before History of Magic today.”

“Oh god,” Sunwoo whines, playing along. Waking up slowly, falling squarely into the way he and Haknyeon work off of each other. “I can already hear the police sirens.”

Hak swats at his arm, and it stings a bit. “You’re just jealous.”

“No, I definitely see enough of Eric as is.”

“I’ll kick your ass if you don’t admit it right now.”

Sunwoo laughs and wills his heart to slow, uses dressing as an excuse to hide his face. “Admit what?”

“That you wish _you_ were hanging out with me,” Hak says smugly.

“Well, I’ve got you now,” he volleys back, trying to make his voice sickly sweet, so sappy that Hak can’t root out the real feeling in it.

“Gross. Kinda gay, Sunwoo.” He can hear the smile in Haknyeon’s voice.

“Funny, Chanhee always says the same thing, and I’ve never cared about it before.” He rattles off his lines without missing a beat, but his mind is still fixated. Fixated on the way Haknyeon could say something like that without an ounce of meanness, the exact same way Chanhee does just before whining about his boy troubles. Decides it’s not too damning to ask, “Are you?” in his most accommodating, least personally interested voice.

“Am I…?”

But now Sunwoo’s face heats up. He had hoped it would be quick, painless. He can’t tell whether Haknyeon is messing with him or not. “Are you, you know. Are you gay?”

“Thought you’d be able to tell.”

“Stop bullshitting me,” he whines.

“Are _you_?”

Sunwoo figures he’s been avoiding his eyes for a suspicious amount of time, hopes that even if Haknyeon notices just how red his ears are, he won’t mention it. He meets Hak’s eyes and shrugs. “Something like that.”

Like the Muggle game his primary friends were always playing, the deadly serious one where they tried to keep a ball in the air for as long as possible, never letting it touch the floor, they keep up the conversation. Haknyeon complains, “You take way too long to get ready,” so they don’t have to sit in implication and too-thick quiet.

Neither of them ever got a straight answer.

Haknyeon moves on, talking (like he does every morning) about the breakfast food he misses at Fenghuang, musing about the mail he might get delivered by one of the school’s owls, as his family still hasn’t gotten one of their own. Sunwoo listens to him, pokes fun and laughs in all the right places. But he doesn’t quite move on.

_‘Thought you’d be able to tell.’_

💥

It’s cold enough outside that he can see his breath, bitterly stinging when a gust of wind picks up. But the courtyard is gorgeous, the grass glittering like the old Muggle music videos his mom is so obsessed with from a light dusting of snow. He spots them easily enough, a tightly huddled pod.

In lieu of a greeting, he forces himself into their huddle, nearly knocking Kevin over.

“Sunwoo,” Juyeon announces, as if the others might not yet be aware of his arrival.

“Okay, let’s get going. I can’t stand still anymore, I’m gonna freeze,” Kevin complains. Sunwoo doesn’t miss the way he presses his cheek to Jacob’s shoulder, and he’s sure Jacob doesn’t either.

The walk to the greenhouses isn’t particularly long, but the biting chill makes it feel like they’re trekking all the way to London. Sunwoo and Juyeon kindly turn blind eyes to the way that Jacob buries both his hand and Kevin’s in his coat pocket. A million different comments he could make, ranging the full scale of embarrassment, come to mind. But he promised Younghoon once that he wouldn’t meddle, that he would let them work it out themselves. It feels like a waste of a walk to forgo making fun of them, though, so he makes sure to mention Hufflepuff’s losing streak on the Quidditch pitch and calls it a day.

Once they arrive, it doesn’t take long for Kevin and Juyeon to get set up with the extended Herbology experiment they’ve been working on. Jacob hovers around, occasionally advising them on the best soil for different plants or the ideal spot in the greenhouse for the right amount of light, eagerly fulfilling his role as ‘seventh year who did this exact project last year’. Sunwoo, just as eagerly, completes his duties as ‘friend who was going to get cornered into studying with Chanhee if he didn’t tag along’. Mostly, the job involves standing in the middle of the greenhouse and touching nothing, pretending he’s having a great time.

“You know what Jaehyun told me just before I left for the courtyard?” Juyeon asks, filling a pot with fresh soil. “A certain Gryffindor of ours got detention for a prank. Dumbass,” he snorts.

“Huh?” Sunwoo asks, suddenly much more invested than he had been when the three of them were debating repotting a troublesome mandrake. “When?”

“Don’t you wanna know who it is, though?”

“If it wasn’t Jaehyun, it was Eric,” he dismisses. “When did this happen?”

“Just about a half an hour ago? Maybe an hour? He has to serve detention during dinner tonight.” Juyeon grimaces, but he may just be masking a smile.

“Was anyone else with him?”

“Interested?” Kevin teases, dodging Jacob’s attempt to wipe off the dirt smudged on the tip of his nose. “What’s with the third degree?”

Sunwoo huffs and Juyeon answers, “I don’t know. Jaehyun only told me about Eric.”

But Sunwoo happens to know that someone else has been with Eric for the past hour. Someone he would really prefer not get dinner detention.

“You okay, Sunwoo?” Jacob asks.

“Yeah,” he answers as convincingly as possible. Ignores the concern on Jacob’s face and the questioning tilt of Kevin’s brows. “This is Eric’s first detention of the year, right? Might be a record. Last year he only made it a week.”

“Maybe,” Juyeon laughs. He tosses Sunwoo a pair of earmuffs and warns, “Suit up.”

“Repotting?” he groans.

“Wow, you weren’t paying attention?” Kevin asks. “Can’t believe you don’t hang off our every word. Unacceptable.”

“Shit.” He’s always hated the greenhouse earmuffs. It’s like using a communal hat (he’s always thought there must be a better way to do the Sorting). But he hates passing out and spending the next four hours in the infirmary even more, so he puts them on without further prompting.

One silver lining of wearing the earmuffs (and how poorly Juyeon and Kev are repotting the mandrake, taking too long and provoking it to fight back) is that it gives him time to ruminate without anyone asking him how he’s feeling. He’s been feeling far too much recently.

He’s spent the past five years eating alone. Of course there were others around, making noise and passing food, occasionally inviting him into stiff conversation. But he always felt detached, and it was never much of a problem. But now he has Hak, someone he loves talking to, someone he knows well enough to anticipate his needs. Without his person regaling him with tales from a half-blood household and splitting servings of pudding across the table, Sunwoo’s looking at an empty night.

It sucks.

It sucks in the same way as the times when he would smell cookies baking at home, only to be informed that they’re for guests, something Sunwoo was never able to get around.

It sucks in the way of getting a taste of something sweet and losing it.

 _Only one night_ , he thinks.

_One night too many._

Juyeon taps his shoulder, mimes removing earmuffs. Sunwoo gives them back, happy to be rid of them. “Already done?” he jokes, knowing it took them well over ten minutes to wrestle one juvenile mandrake into a new pot.

“Shut up,” Kevin snaps. “I’d like to see you do it.”

“Eric and I are,” he replies, pointing to a shelf on the greenhouse wall. “That’s ours.”

“Smug asshole.” Sunwoo can hear the underlying fondness. It’s enough.

At this very moment, Eric and Haknyeon are sitting in History of Magic, probably wishing they had eaten more for lunch. Sunwoo knows Eric won’t care, knows that Hak will be able to roll with the punches. Hell, he might even make friends with the teacher, just based on what Sunwoo’s seen of his social butterfly approach so far. Sunwoo figures he’ll have to roll with the punches, too. One meal just like the years before.

“Don’t forget your quill,” Juyeon reminds Kevin, who’s currently tucking the ends of Jacob’s scarf into his coat collar. Jacob smiles lazily under the attention, and Sunwoo fingers the fringed end of his own scarf. Wonders how it would feel to have someone wrap it gently around his neck and fuss over its warmth.

“It’s a little early, dinner isn’t for another twenty minutes or so,” he says, digging the toe of his shoe into the floor.

“If you want, you can come back with Kev and me and hang out,” Jacob offers.

Sunwoo pictures the Hufflepuff common room, warm and inviting. Full of overstuffed furniture and whatever watery sunlight filters in on days like this. The last time Sunwoo visited, one of the fourth years was handing out pastries his mother had sent. It’s tempting.

But then he pictures being the third in a room with Kevin and Jacob. He imagines he would be able to _feel_ the confession ready to spill from their lips.

“I’m good, thanks. I’ll probably just hang out at Slytherin.”

Kevin’s eyebrows knit together like they always do when he’s confused, but he nods. “Okay. Just don’t hole yourself up alone.”

“No promises,” he answers with a shrug.

He lets the sound of the snow crunching under their feet lull him into reverie on the walk back. Wonders whether Jacob feels warmer now that Kevin’s touched the wool of his scarf, if maybe that infused it with its own sort of magic.

💥

Ten minutes into dinner and he’s going crazy. He needs to _speak_. He needs to hear and be heard. With each passing moment, he becomes more convinced that he hallucinated the first five years, that there’s no way he made it so far without a body across from him at meals.

He wants some beef stew, sees the serving bowl resting just out of polite reach across from a boy with wire-rimmed glasses. Sunwoo knows he’s in sixth year too, which makes it all the more embarrassing that he can’t remember the boy’s name. But his stomach growls, and he knows he has it a lot better than Haknyeon does right now. The least he can do is swallow his pride and ask.

Clears his throat, hoping to get the guy’s attention. He’s turned to listen to the other Slytherins fight over something (Quidditch maybe, Sunwoo can’t tell), unaware. Sunwoo rolls his eyes and taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”

“Huh?” he asks, turning to Sunwoo.

“Uh,” he falters. “Could I please have the stew?”

“Oh, yeah,” he says, passing the serving bowl. He smiles widely and asks, “How’ve you been, Sunwoo?”

He seems so genuine, has the deepest dimples and brightest eyes. Sunwoo frantically wracks his brain for his name. He knows he sleeps across the room and down a few beds, but nothing else comes up. “Uh, I’ve been well. You?”

“Fine. A little buried in work, though. I know you’re not in it anymore, but we have this History of Magic assignment that’s a total killer. I basically live in the library now,” he jokes.

Sunwoo knows. Haknyeon usually updates him on his progress at dinner. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay.”

If Sunwoo wanted, he could end the conversation. He could struggle through one meal alone and maintain the comfortable distance he’s held himself from Slytherin all these years. But this boy smiles like the sun and pays enough attention to know that Sunwoo dropped History of Magic. He doesn’t want to leave him hanging ( _he doesn’t want to be left hanging_ ).

“Why are you still in it anyway? Too much of a hassle to drop, or…?”

His eyes widen in surprise, maybe because Sunwoo’s spent so many years at the end of the table, never going out of his way to speak. Must be like seeing a hundred-year flower in bloom. “Oh. Yeah, that, and it’s better than the alternatives. Like, I couldn’t fill that time in with Divination or Care of Magical Creatures or something like that. Too… abstract.”

Sunwoo nods. “I have a friend who’s been really crushing Divination ever since he picked it up.”

“That’s impressive.”

He snorts and rushes to explain. “If you knew Eric-”

“Oh! I do know Eric!” he says. “He’s in History of Magic too.”

“Oh… that’s right. I keep forgetting you’re all in it, Slytherins and Gryffindors…”

“That definitely seems the sort of thing he’d be good at. Just make stuff up and make friends with the teacher,” the boy says snidely.

Sunwoo laughs. “He always tells me it’s more than that. Sometimes it seems like he’s joking, but sometimes he seems serious. Then I feel a little bad,” Sunwoo says, scratching the back of his neck. “But then I remember the time a couple years ago when Professor Thompson caught both of us in a forbidden wing and _only_ gave detention to _me_ , and I don’t feel bad anymore.”

He laughs, and Sunwoo feels horrible about forgetting his name.

Even though Sunwoo wasn’t sorted into Gryffindor, he grew up with them. He has Gryffindor blood. And he knows that bravery means biting the bullet. “I’m so, _so_ sorry, but I can’t remember your name.”

He giggles, high and happy, and says, “Yeah, I suspected. I’m Changmin.”

“Changmin,” he repeats. “I’m sorry, really.”

“It’s okay,” Changmin assures. “I mean, I probably should have talked to you sooner. Like, years ago.” He seems abashed.

“No way, it’s not your fault. I have this-” _How to explain it?_ “I just usually keep to myself, I guess.”

“Bullshit, I see you with kids from other Houses,” Changmin says, still light. But Sunwoo knows he means it.

And suddenly he has to set it right. He has to make Changmin understand that _he’s_ the one isolating himself, that there was nothing anyone could have done until Haknyeon came along. “I just… I always had this idea that Slytherins weren’t my speed. Totally my own thing, not your fault. It’s really just a me problem, I promise.”

Changmin swallows a spoonful of stew and counters, “But maybe we should’ve shown you that we _are_ our speed. Except, I don’t know, would you even have wanted to hang out? I mean, I should have asked regardless.”

“I would’ve said no,” he says.

Changmin nods contemplatively. “Well, we’re talking now. Late’s better than never.”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo agrees, liking the way it settles in his chest.

“Wanna know what you missed?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

Sunwoo’s too caught up in the oddity of the moment and his brain refuses to function well enough to understand what Changmin’s getting at. “Huh?”

“Five-year recap of Slytherin gossip.”

Sunwoo catches his infectious smile. “Only the good stuff.”

Changmin snorts. “It’s _all_ good stuff, strap in.”

Changmin spends the rest of dinner filling him in. It’s warm, feels like he’s being taken under-wing, like finally letting go of something he had been white-knuckling for far too long. Sunwoo listens intently, reacting in all the right places. He doesn’t know all the names, so Changmin points people out when necessary, and Sunwoo begins to learn. Slowly, he amasses a fresh collection of names, each with their own stories and personalities, and Slytherin comes to life.

💥

Thirty minutes after dinner ends, Sunwoo is sitting cross-legged on his bed, Potions notes fanned out before him. Occasionally, someone will duck in, but they usually keep quiet when they see him studying. Courtesy. Something he would never have expected from Slytherins before.

The door opens while he’s running through the heating instructions for a brew he’s been having serious trouble with lately. He imagines it’s someone coming to get a sweater they left, or maybe their bookbag for the library. But their meandering footsteps just grow closer, empty of purpose as they approach his bed.

“Haknyeon.”

He waves, all soft smile and sparkling eyes. “What are you studying?”

“Potions. How was detention?”

“It was okay,” he says with a little nod. “Professor Binns isn’t much to talk to, though.”

Sunwoo pushes his notes aside to make room on the bed. “Yeah,” he agrees with a laugh. “I think dying really drains the ‘humor’ out of you.”

Hak’s jaw drops and he balls his fists. “Was that a _pun_? Kim Sunwoo, was that a fucking pun?”

“Peace,” he mock pleads, barely holding in the laughter threatening to bubble over at Haknyeon’s melodrama. “Come on, sit.”

Hak climbs up and pushes Sunwoo’s notes even further out of the way, sprawls across the entire lower half of the bed. “Hey-” Sunwoo starts, only to be shushed.

“I’m getting comfy.”

“Okay, well at least hand me my notes. _Some of us_ have to study.”

“Why aren’t you in the library with Chanhee?”

“Waiting for you,” Sunwoo answers, shrugging. Avoids Hak’s eyes so he can keep up his nonchalant, ‘thoughtful friend and nothing else’ façade.

“Aww,” Hak coos, passing him the notes he displaced. Props his head up on his hands and looks up at Sunwoo.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What’d he have you guys do?” Sunwoo asks, trying to find where he left off.

“Well, it was all very exciting. First we dusted his bookshelves. And then he had us teach him the lesson from earlier. Honestly, I can’t complain too much about that part. I’ll probably do better than everyone else on the test.”

“Nice way of looking at it,” Sunwoo answers absently.

“Eric had a tough time, though. You know, spending all that time with someone who never laughs.”

“Mhmm.”

Hak lets his head drop to the bed and lies there in silence for a moment. Sunwoo’s convinced he’ll just stay there, curled on his side and staring at the wall, for however long Sunwoo decides to study. Until, of course, he shifts to lay his head on Sunwoo’s thigh.

Sunwoo recalls how, in first grade, he was friends with a Muggle girl named Lucy. She was convinced she was a fairy and told Sunwoo about it often. Of course, he always knew she _wasn’t_ , but he wasn’t allowed to tell her how he knew. So he listened. He listened to her go on and on about flowers and the tingling feeling of magic. She said magic felt like a lightning storm in her heart, like the little plasma ball their teacher had in the back of the classroom. Sunwoo knew what magic felt like, he knew she was off. But it stuck. Sometimes, even now, as he casts a charm, he half-expects to feel something cosmically small inside himself go off like fireworks.

What Lucy knew wasn’t magic in the sense she thought it was. It was this.

The odd sort of pretend magic she had tried to sell him really exists, it just can’t be bottled or harnessed or cultivated like his family’s can be. It sparks in moments like this, moments where Haknyeon rests his head on Sunwoo’s thigh, traces tiny circles on his knee.

Even more magical is the moment he lets himself go with it and picks his hand up from his Potions book, places it lightly on the side of Hak’s head. Waits a moment, just in case he decides to leave, and then begins stroking gently, just like he used to with the stray neighborhood cats on his way to Muggle primary.

Haknyeon hums and closes his eyes. The back of his head presses into Sunwoo’s side with a comforting closeness. Sunwoo returns to his notes with about half the focus he had before, what he thinks is a pretty fair amount, all things considered. He reviews the dozens of steps to brew Elixir to Induce Euphoria, but it seems less useful now. He’s just discovered an alternative recipe. Haknyeon’s hair under his fingertips, his head in Sunwoo’s lap, those are the only ingredients. Bring to a boil with one quiet night after a long day, and voilà, an endless supply of good feeling.

“I like this sweater,” Hak mumbles, reaching to grab the end of Sunwoo’s sleeve where it rests on top of his head. “Soft.”

“Thanks,” he replies. “My grandma knitted it for me.” It’s a deep red with big white stripes on the sleeves, a little short in the torso but long in the arms. One of her earliest pieces, still on the initial side of the learning curve.

“Thank you, Sunwoo’s grandma,” he says, pressing just a little further into Sunwoo’s stomach.

He stopped training his face the second Haknyeon lay down, and he knows that if Hak opened his eyes to look up at him right now, he would know. He’d know everything. Sunwoo feels the fondness written across his face, feels it in the warmth in his cheeks and the invisible strings pulling at the corners of his lips. Hak would read it as if it were written in ink on his forehead.

But Sunwoo isn’t scared of that.

If Haknyeon were to see Sunwoo now and stay curled into his lap, if he were to know and still remain, Sunwoo thinks he would get to feel fairy magic every day. And what a charmed life that would be.

💥

It grows from there.

Haknyeon heaps extra servings onto Sunwoo’s plate at meals, especially breakfast ( _“Breakfast is the superior meal, obviously”_ ). He brushes Sunwoo’s hair from his face and presses his gloved hands to his cheeks to warm them in the cold. He links their pinkies when they sit next to each other at the library and always saves Sunwoo’s favorite flavor of Fizzing Whizbees for him when he gets his hands on a package.

It’s not unusual for them to lounge together on one of their beds, feeling the thick emerald comforter puff up around their weight. They’re floating through silence on their backs on Sunwoo’s this time, the time that Hak waits until Sunwoo has _almost_ dozed off to nap to whisper, “I think I’m a failure.”

It’s a sharp pain in the base of his spine, a jolt to his being, hearing the weak quality of Haknyeon’s voice when he says it. He turns to his side to look at him, furrows his eyebrows. “Why? You’re not.”

Haknyeon stays flat on his back, staring up at the canopy. “I thought I was trying so hard.” His voice is soft, but his face is blank. Absent. “You got your friends to help me. I study.”

“You _are_ trying. Haknyeon, you’re the hardest worker I know.” Sunwoo wishes he would look at him and see the truth in his eyes.

He keeps looking up to the ceiling, steadfast. Like the time they stayed out late to look at the stars and felt the cold seep into their bones. He bites his lip. “I need to earn it, you know? Being here, and having all this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I need to… even though I can’t fix it, I need to make something of myself. If I don’t put in the work, then why was it even me?”

“Look at me, Hak.”

He turns to Sunwoo. He looks lost.

“You work hard enough. You know what you want, I know you do. I _know_ you, and you’re the most ambitious, most worthy person here. Okay?”

“Sometimes I think I should’ve been in Gryffindor.”

And isn’t that something?

“Like,” Haknyeon’s eyes flick to his hand resting between the two of them, the one Sunwoo’s reaching for. He doesn’t pull away. “I’m not driven enough to be here. I get lost.”

“Liar. You _are_ driven enough to be here. You are the epitome of Slytherin,” Sunwoo says, focusing on the way it feels to trace Haknyeon’s fingers with his own. “It’s one of my favorite things about you. You’re _so_ Slytherin that you redefined it for me.”

Since Haknyeon’s arrival at Hogwarts, green has shifted from ominous to elegant. From the color of rot to lush forests. To growth. Since Haknyeon’s arrival at Hogwarts, they’ve done a lot of growing.

“You deserve to be here more than anyone. No one like you could ever be a failure.”

He smiles softly, nods so subtly that Sunwoo would be sure he imagined it if he weren’t studying Hak so closely.

Sunwoo feels it on his tongue when he looks at Hak. The way his hair is splayed out messily on the sheets, the way his cheek presses into the mattress. What’s been there from day one, slowly taking shape and glowing brighter, steadily brighter each day. It was a spark that first night, lit from the flint of Haknyeon’s glinting eyes in the nightlight of the Black Lake. Then a glowing lantern, hung from Sunwoo’s bedpost by Haknyeon’s own hand. Now it’s a sun, too hot to hold alone.

“I like everything about you, Hak.”

His eyes (always so pretty, easy to look at and love) widen with question.

Sunwoo knows what he wants. He’ll do what he should to get there. It’s what he’s done his whole life, even when he didn’t want to see it in himself. “I really like you. You said it yourself, you know more than anyone else here. You have a whole other life before this one. I miss you when you’re not at dinner. And I like how you push me to be better, and I like how you touch my hands all the time.” He knows there’s more to say. Hopes Hak knows he has more to say, that he could keep going until they were both heavy-lidded and the air smelled like sleep.

Haknyeon’s eyes are searching. Like when he’s tearing through work for an answer, or when he asked Sunwoo if he’d like to visit the farm and meet his family this summer. “What?”

It feels silly and childish and entirely fitting to have this conversation lying on their sides like Sunwoo used to at sleepovers with his Muggle friends. They would build blanket forts and talk for hours, until the house was silent save their whispering. A small comfort, a familiar shine on a moment Sunwoo has imagined over and over again and never felt _real_ in. “You don’t have to feel the same. I don’t know if you do. But I really like you, Haknyeon.”

“I do.”

It feels like Jaehyun-level melodrama to lose his breath, but he does. Fairy magic.

He smiles wide and uncontrolled. “God, that’s good, right? The two most successful, outstanding Slytherins in-”

Kim Sunwoo is a sixteen-year-old wizard. He comes from a long line of Gryffindors but is a Slytherin himself. He still likes football and juice. Until this point, he had only ever been kissed once (by Eric on a dare). It was nowhere near as special as this.

It’s chaste, quick and soft. When Haknyeon pulls back, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Sunwoo says, awestruck. “You pretty much got the gist. It’s fine.” Without thinking, he presses his index finger to his bottom lip, quiet wonder. He’ll deal with Hak’s teasing later.

Haknyeon’s smile has always been beautifully magnetic. In quiet moments, it grows slowly, stretching wider and brighter each second. Sometimes, like now, when he’s particularly excited, his nose scrunches up and his eyes crease into little crescent moons. “I was thinking I’d have to do it.”

“What, tell me? No way, I’m action-oriented. I’m the doer here,” he defends.

“Mhmm,” Hak hums sarcastically. “Yeah, sure.”

They stay there, the only souls in the dorm, _feeling_ like the only souls in the world. Haknyeon’s eyes are like the stars. It isn’t Sunwoo’s first time noticing. “What now?”

Hak adjusts his head, snuggles further into the mattress until his cheek looks like the rice cakes Sunwoo’s great-grandmother used to send when he was a toddler. “Whatever’s next, I guess. Dinner, probably.”

Sunwoo reaches over and swats at his shoulder. Doesn’t know why he expected anything else.

Outside the castle, it’s snowing. The sun is hidden behind clouds, and the day shows no signs of warming up. Just yesterday, a second year Ravenclaw broke her arm after slipping on the sheet of ice surrounding the school. It’s an unforgiving season.

Outside this room are walls of cold stone. The space is serpentine, dark and severe. There’s never been enough light in the Slytherin common room, and Sunwoo still remembers the time he had an unfortunate front-row seat to the Black Lake mermaids hunting. In most of his memory, it’s an isolating place.

But here, he is warm.

Here, he is happy.

And now he imagines the rest will follow suit.

💥

Not much changes. What does is minute, and it means the world.

Hak still wakes him and talks him to consciousness, watching him dress and fixing his tie on the days where he’s only barely managing to keep his eyes open. Sometimes they hold hands on the way to breakfast. Changmin jokes about hating third-wheeling, but that’s outweighed by his love of having people to talk Muggle horror movies with (or people who will let him talk endlessly about horror movies in their direction).

Sunwoo still sneaks Hak into the prefects’ bathroom when he’s had a bad day. He used to sit in the stall closest to the door, guarding and giving him his privacy. Now he perches on the edge of the tub turned toward the stained glass window, holding the mermaid’s eyes and talking loud enough for Hak to hear him over the water. Sunwoo always remembers what they say to each other. It’s easier to say the things with weight when they don’t have to look each other in the eyes and face their own feelings mirrored back. He’s grounded then, feeling the stone of the tub’s edge, seeing the rich colors of the stained glass, smelling orange and sandalwood. Letting it all wash over him.

They still meet with the group to study in the library. Sunwoo still looks at Haknyeon when he’s supposed to be writing a paper or leafing through books ten times as old as he is; the only difference is that Hak doesn’t pretend not to notice anymore.

By the time the snow has melted, Haknyeon is passing Ancient Runes and Herbology with flying colors. He’s the only one Younghoon trusts with his wiggentree sapling ( _“He was trained by my own hand, Sunwoo. I never taught you, you might kill it.”_ ).

Sunwoo relishes bragging about having the smartest boyfriend in the group. Chanhee always promises that soon Sangyeon will contest him. Sunwoo isn’t holding his breath; even once Chanhee follows through on his promise, he’ll never know the traditional magic Haknyeon grew up around before Chanhee even knew he was a wizard.

Sunwoo jokingly asks Eric if he can divine when the cold will leave for good and the sky will be clear, if he can see a perfect night for stargazing. He throws out a date, always one to play along.

As the days drag on and the meadows around the castle bloom in bursts of yellow and purple, Sunwoo thinks he may be forced to start putting some stock in Divination. Even worse, he may be forced to believe Eric genuinely excels in an academic subject Sunwoo could never wrap his head around. Wonders if he could get Jaehyun to ask him to impart some of his tricks.

One unseasonably warm, cloudless night, Sunwoo leads Haknyeon by the hand up the winding staircase he tends to avoid at all costs. He watches the gentle breeze ruffle Hak’s hair and the rosy light illuminate his eyes. God, Sunwoo loves the way his eyes look in the fading sun.

The sky melts to a deep purple, and they really should be in the dorm. Sunwoo remembers the last time they were here, remembers the way he pulled his hand back from Haknyeon’s searching fingers. Now, he rubs his thumb over his knuckles, focusing on the weight of Hak’s hand in his.

“One day we’re gonna run out of luck, ignoring curfew like this,” he smiles.

“Yeah, maybe,” Sunwoo says. “I’d learn to brew Liquid Luck for you, though. Or get an Invisibility Cloak. I heard there was one around here not even fifty years ago. We could come up here all the time.”

“And all that would somehow fix your fear of heights?” Haknyeon reminds him.

Sunwoo makes sure to keep his eyes up as he turns and plasters on the sleaziest smirk he can muster. “Not a problem if I just keep looking at you.”

“Gross,” he laughs. “But feel free.”

They know the names of all the constellations. Orion, Pleiades, Cassiopeia. Sunwoo even points out Sirius, one of his favorites from first year Astronomy. But none of the names seem to roll off the tongue like they used to, none of them carry the same music they had when Sunwoo first learned them. So Orion becomes the Black Lake. Pleiades Fenghuang and Cassiopeia Slytherin.

Sirius is the easiest.

The brightest star in the sky.

“It’s you.”

It makes Haknyeon blush. He loops their arms together even tighter, presses in until there’s no space left between. The air is warm, and the stars are bright. Sunwoo is at home in his robes, at home in the boy holding his hand.

In the pitch dark of night, they stumble down the steps to the common room, coming down from the adrenaline of narrowly escaping capture and a horrible detention helping Professor Kloves dust his thousands-strong book collection. Changmin, who had warned them before they left, shakes his head in disbelief and laughs at them from a clawfoot leather couch.

“Made it,” Haknyeon laughs.

“I guess,” he teases.

“Why are you still up?” Sunwoo asks.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Okay then,” Haknyeon says, making his way to the couch, slowly so as to avoid tripping in the darkness. Sunwoo trails behind him, hand resting on his shoulder.

“Nah, I don’t wanna intrude on your date.”

“Date’s over. Now we’re three friends having a late night chat in the common room,” Hak answers matter-of-factly.

Sunwoo has to strain his eyes to see, but the grateful smile on Changmin’s face is worth it. He’ll probably end up needing glasses from all the late nights in the library anyway. A friend’s smile in the dark is a much better trade for his eyesight.

The night fades away like so many of them do now, edges curled with conversation, ink smudged with good feeling. Another page in the story Sunwoo only started writing this year, begun after he took up the quill from the new Slytherin boy across from him at dinner.

It’s full of magic and snow, the flickering candles of the Great Hall and belonging.

It’s penned in bleeding green ink, the color of growth.

It’s the best story Sunwoo’s ever known. And it never ends.

**Author's Note:**

> ,,,,, I just love the boyz
> 
> Please talk to me in the comments, I always love hearing from people!! Have a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/whenever else you're reading this and remember my dog loves u


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